Another Epic Collection
by Aysu
Summary: More Epic Battle Fantasy stories and ficlets, though sometimes with mature themes. Warnings inside.
1. Revenge (Rated M)

**_EDIT:_** _As of chapter 8, this collection contains sex. There will be no PWP ficlets, only sex with plot. All warning are posted at the beginning of each chapter, so if you're too young, don't want, or don't like to read sex, then skip those chapters containing sex in them. Thank you, and enjoy!_

 ** _A/N:_** _So I have a number of stories like in the '_ The Epic Tales _' that fall under the '_ M _' rating. I don't want to bump the rating of my collection_ , _but I_ do _want to put them out on the internet for people to see. So here I am with a mature collection. These ficlets/short stories/drabbles all hit the '_ M _' rating for graphic violence, graphic depictions of death, suicide, attempted suicide, strong language, rape, and sexual themes—though probably not full blown sex, since that's actually against Fanfiction's rules (Oops for Retribution.). I may also add some of my incomplete works here (the ones that are partial plots that I may still write). In fact, most of these will be incomplete works. Warnings will be posted for every addition, and you all are free to tell me I am a messed up human being for some of the crap I write. Now, time to start off strong!_

 **Warnings:** Blood, death, suicide.  
 **Genre:** Tragedy

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Natalie shuddered on the ground and let out a weak moan of pain as she was rolled over by strong, but gentle hands. She tried to focus on the blurry figure above her and could just make out Matt's bright hair. "It… h-hurts…" she whimpered before coughing on something wet in her throat.

"It- It's going to be… to be okay, Natz…" Matt whispered in a choked voice with tears streaming down his cheeks. He stroked her cheek with one thumb, brushing a tear off her soft skin. He forced his voice to be as steady as possible for the dying mage. "Just… just go to sleep, and Anna'll have you as good as new in no time…" It was a complete lie, and he knew it. Anna was nowhere nearby, and there was no way the ranger could have helped, even if she had been there. But his words seemed to comfort Natalie, and that was all he could offer in her final moments.

Natalie cracked the weakest of smiles as her eyes closed. She couldn't feel the hot drops of water hitting her face, or feel the way Matt was shaking. She let out a final breath before slumping still. Matt carefully drew her body up to press an impossibly gentle kiss to her forehead before setting her down with equal care as though she could wake up at any moment. His eyes squeezed shut, forcing even more tears out as his hands curled into fists. And then he threw his head back and let out a howl of loss. His scream was inhuman in its agony as it echoed down the empty halls, and was followed by broken sobs as he curled into a ball, gripping his shoulders, his hair a curtain about his hunched form.

Matt wasn't sure how long he stayed there, sobbing in sorrow and loss. Natalie had long since grown cold, and her spilled blood had dried. But the swordsman's sobs did, eventually, slowly wind down to hoarse coughs. His knuckles grew white as his fingers curled and dug into his shoulders through his jacket. He brought his head up and his eyes were glowing an icy blue. His face was a hardened mask of fury with not one trace of his usual carefree smile. He slowly uncurled and stood up, every motion smooth, calculated, deadly grace. He left Heaven's Gate where it lay beside Natalie and withdrew Devil's Sunrise. His eyes lingered on Natalie's pale face for several, long moments, tracing her beautiful features.

"I promise that I'll see you soon. Wait for me, Natz," was all Matt finally murmured.

And then the swordsman turned away. His mana sparked in a fiery aura as he strode onwards, and his very shadow seemed to writhe behind him. Before long, he could hear the muffled sounds of battle from up ahead, but maintained the same pace. A single slash was all it took to take down the double doors of black wood that loomed over him. The massive barrier fell inwards, slamming to the floor with a resounding boom. The battle inside stuttered to a halt, and Matt's footsteps echoed overloud in the sudden silence. The fallen door cracked and shattered upon his stepping on it, but he didn't so much as twitch.

Matt didn't acknowledge Lance or Anna who were gaping at him. His still-glowing eyes were fixed on the powerful demon lord whom they had been battling. His expression was stonily blank, and his eyes icy and dead. But despite the lack of expression, not one person in the room thought he was calm.

Lance stared at his long-time friend with a shiver of true fear. There was blood staining the swordsman's clothes, hands, and face. Heaven's Gate was gone in favor of Devil's sunrise. There was an ominous aura flickering around him. And he hadn't acknowledged either of his friends. He gulped as he glanced past the swordsman, already having a sinking suspicion of what had happened.

Anna subconsciously gripped her bow tighter, and slid to stand beside Lance. She watched with wide eyes as Matt walked straight up to the demon, and stared up at it. The demon hadn't moved, either, frozen by a sense of fear: fear caused by staring its own death in the eyes. All of its previous mockery, confidence, and boasting had vanished, and even though it stood twice as tall as the human staring at it with dead eyes, it felt small and pathetic. Something had changed drastically in the fighter before it, and that change spelled its doom.

The demon tried to flee by spreading its wings to fly away. Matt didn't move, but twin glowing swords appeared from nowhere on either side of him, stabbing into the bat-like wings and into the floor, pinning the demon, which let out a howling-screech of pain. Matt stared down at the demon lord, and stepped forwards as it began scrambling back, tearing its wings through the glowing blades pinning it to the floor, despite the agony that caused, trying to get away from him. Four more Holy Swords appeared to pin the monster's limbs. Matt raised his sword arm, spun the weapon in his hand so that the blade was pointed at the demon, and thrust it down on the demon's neck, barely nicking its throat. The blade slid into the monster's flesh, at once damaging and healing it through the weapon's dark enchantment. Black blood bubbled up from the wound and began to trickle out of the choking demon's mouth. Matt stepped back, and watched with impassive eyes as the demon struggled.

Anna and Lance cringed at the ugly choking sounds made by the dying demon. But neither one dared to risk ending the creature's suffering. They were, for once, terrified of what Matt might do to them if they interfered. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Natalie had been killed in Matt's arms: nothing else could have caused such a drastic shift. The swordsman had taken a dark turn for the worse, and they doubted that they could pull him back.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, the demon's twitching and choking stopped, and it slumped still. Matt finally turned to his friends, but they couldn't see his face in the shadow it was cast under. His hair glinted in the fading red moonlight, the curse of night finally broken.

"I'm bringing this place down. You have five minutes to get out," Matt said tonelessly.

"Matt-" Anna tried, taking a step forwards.

"Go."

Lance scowled and snapped, "Do you really think she would have wanted to kill yourself over her?"

"Four minutes left."

"Screw that," Lance spat, storming forwards. He jerked to a halt a split second later when an invisible force sliced past his cheek. His eyes flew wide as blood began to trickle down his cheek. Still, he swallowed, and said in a pleading voice, "Matt, please… Please don't do this."

A crack began to form in the floor, starting from where Matt was standing. Anna let out a choked sob, but still darted forwards to snag Lance's wrist and begin tugging him for the door. The gunner resisted for a brief moment before cursing Matt as he turned with tears in his eyes to dash after Anna and vanish from sight down a side passage. Neither one looked back as they fled the collapsing castle.

Matt stared after them as chunks of ceiling began to fall down around him. He stepped forwards, heedless of the danger, and left the way he had come. All around him, the stone groaned as more and more support was lost. Windows shattered, tapestries thudded down, sconces toppled over, sending flaming wood and embers across the floor, and stone and dust cascaded down on all sides.

But Matt didn't look at the devastation. His eyes were once again fixed on Natalie's broken body. He moved the last few steps and sank to his knees to gather her up to his chest. Tears streamed down his face as he held her, aching with loss. There was sharp cracking sound, and then everything went dark. And Matt no longer hurt.

 **OOOOOO**

Matt's face scrunched up against a light behind his eyelids. He rolled his head to the side to try and escape the unwelcome light. And the warmth brushing over his skin. He wanted to go back to the darkness where he couldn't feel. But try as he might, he couldn't escape the light and warmth. Or the gentle brushing through his hair. He finally let out a defeated sigh and opened his eyes, expecting to see some healer tending him with Anna or Lance standing not far away, scowling at him. Instead, he saw blades of shimmering grass, and a familiar red dress. Matt sucked in a shuddering breath and rolled his head to look up. Natalie's face smiled down at him, though he could see disapproval and sadness in her blue eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that," Natalie murmured, holding Matt's gaze as he sat up. "You had so much time left."

Matt swallowed a few times, trying to clear the lump in his throat. "I don't want time if you aren't with me," he finally replied in a voice thick with emotion.

Natalie blew out a sigh and shook her head. She spread her arms, and breathed, "Well, there's nothing but time with me, now. Until Lance and Anna eventually show up, anyway. And just so you know: I'm not helping you when they smack you. But hopefully that won't be for many years."

Matt's lips spread in a wobbly smile as he threw himself into the offered embrace. His own arms wrapped around Natalie's waist, and he buried his face in her soft hair. He relished in the gentle pressure of her arms hugging him back as she pressed her face into his neck, and the warmth coming from her, even if he knew it no longer meant life. And a gentle peace settled in Matt's heart: he had Natalie, and that was all that mattered to him.

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 ** _A/N:_ **_I've finally done it. I've killed one (or, rather, two) of the main characters. I once said I would never be able to do a tragedy, but I worked at it until finally succeeding in it (and I cried a_ **lot** _)—though the ending is still sort of bittersweet. Leave me a review, and I'll be back as soon as I polish (by which I mean actually edit) some of my other stories!_


	2. Escort (Rated T)

**_EDIT 7/24/2018:_** _I have added a few extra thousand words to the end of this fic! I hope you enjoy!_

 ** _A/N:_** _So here's one of those stories I'm working on off the net that I've mentioned in previous works. It's not done, obviously, but I figure you guys deserve to see what sucks up my time and fingers instead of chapters on my other fics. It's a pretty long one, so be prepared for that._

 _The basic gist of this one is that there's a witch hunt going on for anyone who can use magic, so the team is trying to get people to safety, and have split up to cover areas more quickly. It's a little different from my previous works because a large portion of it is focused on someone other than the four main characters (In fact, Lance is the only one who makes an appearance so far in this on.). It's still a third person limited POV (i.e. follows the perspective of one character at a time in a narration way), but with a new person as a focus._

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 ** _Little Follower:_** _I'll respond to your reviews from both the previous installment and_ The Epic Tales _here. Please excuse the atrocious text walls that are incoming. :P_

 _For_ Revenge _: It occurs to me now that I probably should have mentioned that it is an incomplete plot idea, just one that will never be written. I frequently leap right into the thick of things in them as they are what strikes my fancy at the moment. It's lazy, I know. :P As for the first person, I'll keep it in mind for future tragedies (not that I'll likely be writing too many more perma-deaths. My heart and eyes can't take it. :P). It didn't really occur to me that people feel more attached/in sync to first person moments as I, personally, abhor almost all FPPOV. I don't get that attachment as it feels more like a narration from the character than placing myself in their shoes, environment, and life—it actually becomes harder for me to immerse myself in a world and story when it feels like I'm just getting a single view window of events—and I just dislike the style of writing in general for reading (Excluding_ Percy Jackson and the Olympians _. I will always love those books). As for the fight scenes, I, too, usually don't like jumping directly from emotional moments to action. What's been happening is that I feel I need to be adding more description for fights than I have been doing. I tend to gloss over battle or rush the ends of them unless I really sit down and concentrate on descriptions and actions (The fight against Godcat in An epic retelling was an egregious rush job on the back end.) Many of the additions to this collection will be combat fics that I've written as practice. I'd like to hit a proficiency point where I don't really need to consciously focus on battles to write them well, so I throw in practice wherever I can. I'm sorry if that detracted from the emotion of the piece for you. I'm glad you liked the ending. I'm a terrible sucker for happy endings, and I could never just let two characters die like that. XD_

 _In reference to your latest review: I was not at all upset by the suggestions! I love constructive criticism, and am so glad you gave me some. After all, how can I possibly improve if I don't know what went wron to my readers? They were very valid points, and it is my own shortcoming that makes me not want to improve off of your suggestions right away. I know what insulting looks like, and your review was not an insult at all. You were very polite and gave the reasoning for your suggestions, which is the best any author could ever hope for when getting criticism of any kind._

 _For_ Drabbles 1 _: I'd been collecting drably things I've written for a while, and wishing I could put them out there. You're right that they seemed too short for individual stories, and they don't really fit into any of the plots I have going. Then I recalled seeing other fics that do a bunch of drabbles in one chapter, and figured why do that, too? I'll definitely be posting more as I track them down on my computer and/or write them._

 _Yup, character interactions are my fave. I'm trying to extend my writing horizons, but I keep getting drawn back into banter. :P We'll say it's a slow work in progress, I guess. XD_

 _Yeah, if the Valkyrie wasn't such a rumbling plot mess, I'd totally put it in everywhere. Sadly, it's just too hard to explain away all the logistical issues with having a full-sized tank other than using the cop-out "it's magical" explanation._

 _Eh, heh. I may have had a little too much fun with Rambo-NoLegs. Originally, he was just going to be drunk, but then I imagined him stealing Lance's stuff. And then I pictured him wearing the Army hat, and, well, it all went to hell in handbasket from there. XD_

 _I don't like to leave errors in my writing, and editing is the only way I have beyond A/Ns in new chapters to let my guests know I've read their reviews. To be clear, I read every single review I get (sometimes more than once because they give me warm fuzzies :3). I'm beyond flattered (to the point of honestly blushing) that you think my writing is good enough to help improve your own. That is incredibly high praise, so thank you. I hope you'll continue to enjoy, and review my works._

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 _Now, then, enjoy!_

 ** _Title:_** _Escort (tentatively)  
_ _ **Rating:**_ _Probably T  
_ _ **Warnings:**_ _Blood, language._

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Erick studied his rescuer who sat across the fire from him. The man was fairly tall and lean with well-defined muscles in his arms now that his coat was taken off. He had shaggy red hair and red eyes that were clear and sharp. His skin, though orange in the firelight, was tanned from exposure to the sun. He didn't talk much, and his expression was closed and unreadable. Still, Erick mused he couldn't be _that_ bad of a man, if he'd risked his life to save a strange boy he'd never met before. And he was definitely skilled and strong to fight off five brigands alone. He was a little strange to just assume the boy would come with him, though—not that he'd had any qualms with following for a little while.

"Are you hungry?"

Erick jumped slightly at the sudden, gruff question. He nodded mutely, and received a traveler's biscuit, a strip of dried meat, and a bottle of water. "Th-thanks, mister," he mumbled as he accepted the food.

"Lance," the man replied shortly. He elaborated when the boy looked confused, "My name. You can call me Lance; might as well since we've got a ways to go together. What's yours?"

"Oh, um, my name's Erick," Erick stuttered. He hastily wiped his hand on one pant leg and held it out to shake as his father had taught him, "Pleased to meet you, mis- _Lance_. Thank you for saving me earlier."

He felt a little awkward when Lance merely stared at the offered hand for a moment before rolling his eyes and shaking it. Erick noted that Lance's hands were calloused; a lot like his father's, who spent long days working the farm. He wondered if Lance had gotten his callouses from fighting a lot. He supposed he must have, given his apparent skill at it—and to be able to make it look so easy, too!

"Where are we going?" Erik asked as he nibbled on his traveler's biscuit. He resisted making a face at the tasteless quality.

"North," Lance replied as he tossed another branch into the fire. The flames were smothered for a moment before catching and spreading across the added fuel. Lance sat back and dug out some food for himself as he went on, "We'll head east, first, though. I doubt you'll be able to walk the entire way, so I need to buy some horses, and the closest town that sells any decent ones isn't on our way. Still, it'll be worth it in the long run. Can you ride?"

Erik nodded hesitantly, "I ride my family's plow horse to and from the field all the time. But my house isn't so far away that I need a horse to reach it."

Lance stilled with his canteen against his lips. He lowered the container and stared at Erick with the first gleam of real emotion in his eyes: sorrow and sympathy. "I thought you knew…" he murmured uneasily.

"Knew what?"

"Oh, boy," Lance muttered to himself. He took a deep breath before saying, "Your family and farm are gone, Erick. The Sect came and wiped them out days ago."

It took a few moments for those words to sink in. And then Erick felt a flood of emotions: disbelief, anger, sadness, fear, horror. He wanted to scream, to demand to know why, to refute the horrible news, to run home and prove that his family was fine, and worried about why he'd been so late getting back. And yet, all he could do was stare numbly at Lance. He barely registered that the man was speaking to him with increasing concern, and he didn't feel when a hand landed on his shoulder to jostle him. He didn't realize that he'd begun to violently shake, or that tears were leaking silently down his cheeks, or that his breathing was picking up.

A sharp pain to his cheek snapped him out of his shock, and shattered his unnerving silence. The tears came more rapidly, and he curled into himself as he cried. "Wh-wh- _why_? We n-never d-did, anything wr-wrong!" he sobbed desperately.

Lance frowned to himself as he was now faced with the challenge of comforting a boy of twelve or so years of age that he'd only just met that afternoon about the complete annihilation of his closest family. This was definitely far outside his skill set and comfort zone, and he blamed his friends for the twinge in his chest that urged him to do _something_ to make the kid feel better, though he didn't know what to do. He resolved to give them an earful when he reached the checkpoint as he scooted around the fire to awkwardly wrap an arm around the boy's trembling shoulders. It seemed to be the right thing as Erick leaned into the comfort. " _Might as well push the advantage,_ " he wryly mused to himself.

"I'm sorry," Lance told Erick quietly. "It's not much, but I did bury them when I got there. I'm sorry I didn't arrive soon enough to save them."

Erick coughed on a sob and took a few shaky breaths before he mumbled, "Thanks…" He felt a gentle squeeze from the arm around his shoulders, and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

That one _thanks_ was the last thing said that night. Erick merely cried until he couldn't cry anymore, his eyes puffy and red, and his throat sore from sobbing. Lance remained at his side, alternating between rubbing his back and hugging him, but not speaking or pressing the boy to speak. He passed out against Lance, exhausted emotionally and physically. The gunner silently gathered the boy up and tucked him into his bedroll before moving to sit under a nearby tree to keep watch.

Erick woke to the sound of birds chirping. He stared up at the canopy of leaves overhead through which he could see the early morning sky. His face felt stiff from the tears from the night before, his eyes were itchy, and his throat was scratchy and parched. The evidence of his breakdown merely enforced the realization that it hadn't been some horrible dream. His family was dead, and he was alone. He rolled his head to the side when he heard footsteps and saw Lance heading towards him with two canteens in hand. By the water clinging to the sides of the containers, Erick figured they'd just been filled from the stream. He pushed himself up, carefully worming his upper body out of the bedroll he'd been placed in.

"How're you feeling?" Lance asked quietly as he held out one of the canteens.

"Better than my family," Erick muttered bitterly as he popped the cap. He drank a mouthful of the cold water and swallowed it past the lump in his throat. He sipped a little more until his tongue no longer felt swollen and fuzzy before capping the canteen. He stared at the container in his hands and his grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. "I'll kill them _all_ ," he hissed, "Every single one of them."

Lance arched a brow, and decided to nip that dangerous way of thinking at the bud. "As much as I can appreciate a revenge murder, you don't have the skills, the strength, the knowledge, or the character to manage it," he stated mildly. He stretched a hand out to rest on Erick shoulder and said in a quiet, firm voice, "Your family wouldn't want you to get yourself killed in an attempt to stain your hands with their murderers' blood, and you know it. Put that train of thought aside before it drives you mad. And trust me: it _will_ eventually drive you mad."

Erick slumped under Lance's reasonable words and reasoning, and he loosened his death grip on the canteen in his hands. He traced one finger around the cap as he asked in an uncertain tone, "What do I do now, then? Where do I go if my home is gone? I don't have any money or relatives who'd be willing to take me in." He couldn't bring himself to meet Lance's eyes as he wondered about how he'd live from now on. It was a big, scary world out there, and he was so young, as his mother always said when he talked about going beyond the farming community he'd grown up in.

Lance lightly squeezed the shoulder he was gripping as he said, "Well for now, you're with me. I have plenty of money, and was already planning on taking you north. My friends and I are gathering up people like you, and we have a place you can go with people who can take care of you."

Erick finally looked up with a hint of reluctant curiosity in his gray eyes. There were about a dozen question swimming through his mind, but he settled on one to ask. "People like me?"

"People who can use magic," Lance explained as he let go of the boy's shoulder. "The Sect targeted your family because they had a history of magic users, and unfortunately people who can use magic are the world's latest scapegoats."

"Why would they want to hurt people who can use magic?" Erick wondered aloud.

Lance shook his head with a disgusted snort, " _That_ is a long and complicated story full of idiocy and narrowmindedness. I can try to give you the short version while we walk, but I'm trusting you to kick me if I start getting too mad about it." The small bit of humor caused a flicker of amusement to appear in the boy's shadowed eyes, much to Lance's relief. He stood up with a jerk of his head, "Now come on, we can do breakfast on the road, too."

Erick scrambled out of the bedroll and stood to one side while Lance moved about the small campsite, picking up his gear, and spreading the still-warm ashes of the campfire to cool. Soon the pair was on the dirt road winding through the trees, heading east to a small town Lance called Bluegrass. Breakfast was almost identical to the night before, though Lance added a little fruit to the dried meat and bland bread. As they walked and ate, Erick learned of what the Sect was doing, and why. He could see why Lance had said it made him mad to talk about. The mindless hatred, bred from fear, and taken out on unsuspecting innocents was very anger inspiring.

"I can't believe they needed somebody to blame so they picked hundreds or people who did nothing wrong to kill," Erick muttered with a tight expression as he thought of his cheerful, friendly parents, who's never hurt another person in their entire lives, and his pretty, if somewhat airheaded younger sister who hardly knew what anger meant.

Lance grunted, eyes constantly scanning the area around them as he kept watch for trouble, human or otherwise. "More like thousands of people. You'll find history and the world are full of bigots and idiots, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Erick huffed.

Lance shot the boy an amused look, "Oh, yeah? How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Still a kid for five more years, then," Lance chuckled. He smirked at the discontent grumbles, and nudged the boy as he added, "But thirteen is plenty old enough for a lot of things. How would you like to learn to fight?"

Erick's eyes widened and gleamed with childish excitement, chasing away the lingering shadows of sadness and anger that had been lurking in them. As Lance had expected, a distraction was just what the boy needed at the moment, and it had the dual-purpose of preparing the kid for the likely eventuality of combat in the near future. The gunner doubted Erick would be any use in battle, but having some sort of sense of what to do and not do in a fight was important, and would be helpful in his job of keeping the kid's head attached to his shoulders while guarding him. Plus physical exercise would be the ideal distraction from his sorrow and give him a positive goal to work on.

"Will you teach me to fight?" Erick asked eagerly.

Lance arched a brow, "Unless you know someone else around who'd be willing to teach a kid how to avoid dying?"

"I'm _not_ a _kid_ ," Erick protested with a disgruntled pout. His ire soon faded as he asked, "So when can we start?"

"Right now," Lance replied calmly. "Show me how you throw a punch."

Erick curled his right hand into a tight ball and swung it forwards. He looked to Lance expectantly.

"Okay, first things first, you'll break your thumb if your fist is like that," Lance said. He held his own fist up to show Erick as he explained, "Never, ever curl your fingers over your thumb. Not only does it diminish the power of your blow by absorbing some of the impact, you'll almost certainly snap your thumb. Ideally, you wouldn't use a fist at all for a straight forwards hit." He changed his fist to an open palm with his fingers bent at the knuckles. He nodded approvingly as Erick copied him and explained, "The bone here in your hand is more solid than your fingers, so the impact has more force behind it with less chance of damaging yourself. Try punching your opposite palm and then try smacking your palm into it. Which hurts less, and which feels stronger?"

"The palm, definitely," Erick decided after a few punches. He swung his palm in the same arc he had his punch and was corrected again by Lance.

"Don't swing wide like that. All you're doing is giving your opponent a chance to see where you're coming from. You want to be in and out so fast they're wondering when you hit them. Throw your shoulder behind the blow for more force with less distance." He demonstrated a basic palm strike.

Erick copied him, and after a few tries, he was doing admirably well. "Huh, this isn't so hard," he grinned as he swung his right arm over and over.

Lance arched a brow, "Oh, so you're done now? That one hit is going to save you in a fight? Nuh-uh, bucko, you've got a _long_ way to go before you can claim it's not so hard. Besides, we haven't hit the most important stuff, yet. But we'll get to that, later. For now, let me tell you about where to aim for that a kid like you can reach."

" _Not_ a kid."

"Whatever," Lance said with a smirk, "…kid."

The entire day they spent walking, Lance taught Erick about the ideal places to go for when in a fight, things to look out for, when to use a fist, and when a palm strike is the better choice. He firmly told the boy that anything goes in a real battle, that life wasn't like bedtime stories where a person could adhere to a code of honor not to hit below the belt, not to hit someone who was down, and that women were completely harmless as foes and should not be fought.

"Some of the strongest fighters I know are women," Lance told Erick when the boy protested that his father had told him to never strike a girl. "The fact of the matter stands that women can be just as dangerous as men, and if you go into a battle against a real fighter and you decide to pull your punches because of their gender, then you're going to wind up hurt or dead. Not that your dad's words don't have some truth to them: you'd never hit a girl—or a boy, for that matter—who's just being a pest, and there's a time and place for every battle. He was teaching you to be respectful and have morals, which is a sight better than some people do. But respect and morality just doesn't apply in most fights. I want you to promise me that you'll do what you must to keep yourself alive in battle."

"I promise," Erick said firmly.

"Good," Lance said with a nod. "Now then, let's break for the night and we'll get started on the most important thing in battle."

"Magic? Weapons?" Erick asked eagerly.

"Matt and Natalie will like you," Lance snorted to himself. He shook his head, "No, the most important thing in any fight is dodging, and minimizing damage when a dodge is impossible." He raised a hand to halt Erick's disappointed groan and said in a tone of upmost seriousness, "Your health should be one of your top priorities. How can you expect to win, especially against more than one foe, if you get stabbed in the belly during the first five seconds? Or what if you fail to dodge a hit and your leg breaks? Dodging will be your greatest asset, Erick. You're too small and light to be a major threat, or for your blows to have any significant force behind them."

Erick's protests died at Lance's use of his actual name, not _kid_ , as the gunner had taken a fondness to calling him over the day. He was tempted to be upset at the jab to his height and size, but his irritation faded as he realized Lance wasn't mocking him, but making a very valid point. He was strong for his age given all the hard labor he'd done on the farm, but it was foolish to think he'd be fighting people who were smaller than him. He took a deep breath and met Lance's serious gaze.

"But my smaller size means I'm a smaller target."

Lance gave the boy an approving nod with a slight smile. "Exactly. You're smaller than most people who'd try to attack you, and you'll probably be more agile and flexible. Kids just have that advantage. Of course, some adults are really flexible, too, but we still have to exert more effort to change directions. Your greatest strength and defense right now is your small stature. People will underestimate you because you're a kid and smaller than them. They won't expect you've been trained to fight; especially if you don't tell them you can in an effort to scare them."

"An empty cart rattles loudly," Erick said with the air of parroting an oft-repeated phrase. He shrugged when Lance gave him a strange look and quietly said, "Dad used to say that all the time. He hated boasting."

"Well, he was a very wise man," Lance said approvingly. "Let your enemies do the boasting. While they're talking, you can be planning how to take them down, or an escape. In fact, I encourage getting them to talk when you can; talking distracts people, so hit them in the middle of a sentence—either your own, or theirs. And never hesitate to run if you're in over your head: _He who runs lives to fight another day_ , after all."

Erick nodded again, and Lance clapped his hands before shucking off his weaponry. He carefully leaned his gunblade up within easy reach and turned to Erick with a gleam in his eyes. "Now then, I'm going to hit you, and I want you to dodge. We'll start out slow, and I'll be pulling my punches. Pick a stance."

"I thought you said not to pull punches in a fight?" Erick said as he fell into a loose stance Lance had taught him earlier.

"I did, but this isn't a fight; you're way too small of a threat. Feel free to swing at me, if _you_ consider this a fight, but keep in mind that I can pin you in about seven different ways, and weigh more than twice as much as you."

Erick scowled at the jab. "Tough words," he muttered. His eyes widened as Lance suddenly seemed to blur in his vision and he found himself forcefully thrown to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back and a weight holding him down, pinning his knees.

"And now it's an action," Lance said calmly. He released Erick and stood up, hauling the boy up by the under arm. He stepped back and said with a hint of disapproval, "What I was saying wasn't a boast, but a warning; what you said with _tough_ _words_ was a boast. You're all but claiming you're better than me, and that my talent and skill means nothing against your own. Always look out for when someone can back their words up."

"Then how do I know when someone is just talking big?" Erick asked in frustration, crossing his arms.

Lance arched a brow, "You don't. A smart person would take everything their opponent claims seriously. Chances are that someday you'll be able to tell what a person is or is not capable of. Until that day, assume they can do everything they claim, and prepare for it as best as you can, as fast as you can. Now get ready to dodge."

Erick's eyes widened as Lance darted forwards, much slower than before, but still fast. He barely ducked under the first punch, but a leg hooked his feet out from under him, sending him toppling down. He recalled what Lance had said about ending up on the ground, and immediately rolled away and to his feet. Lance was already coming at him again as soon as he regained his footing. The gunner's eyes were fixed on him, but obviously fairly bored and unimpressed so far. Erick gritted his teeth and dodged the next hit, this time taking care to keep Lance in sight as he moved. He twisted to dodge a palm strike to his shoulder, but still took a glancing hit that sent him staggering back, off balance.

The training went on that way with Lance attacking, and Erick dodging. The gunner began leaving less and less time for recovery between stumbles, forcing the boy to react faster to avoid getting a new bruise. Lance finally called it quits after an hour. Erick slumped to the ground in relief, breathing heavily, and stiffy rubbing around a few aching bruises. A canteen appeared in his vision, and he accepted it gratefully to chug down. As soon as he was done, he felt a strange warmth run through his body. He tensed, but the sensation faded almost as soon as it had begun, and as it faded, so did the aches from his bruises. Lance was casting a healing spell on him to take care of the marks and pain.

"Not bad for a first round," Lance commented as he tossed down his bedroll and passed some more dried food over. He gave a half-smirk at Erick's bashful thanks, and added, "Keep that up, and you might actually live two minutes in a fight."

Erick went back to scowling. Lance, he was beginning really understand, was an aggravating jerk. Still, his frustration soon faded as he realized it was for his own good, and that, overall, the gunner was far nicer than he was mean. Plus, he couldn't really imagine the man as anything different. In fact, Lance kind of reminded him of one of his uncles: gruff and blunt, but definitely caring. Of course, Lance lacked the bushy beard his uncle had had. That got the boy wondering how old Lance really was. The gunner often acted like some of his older cousins what with the teasing and brash humor, but he thought with reason and logic like an older, wiser man.

"So how old are you?"

Lance arched a brow at the sudden question, "Twenty-one. Why?"

Erick gave him a toothy grin, "Just thinking you act like an old man."

"Can it, squirt."

"You asked."

"Yes, I did, and now I'm wondering why," Lance muttered in a droll tone. He pointed at the bedroll he'd laid out and said, "Get to sleep. We're leaving at dawn tomorrow, and I don't want to hear complaints about how tired a certain kid is because he stayed up too late talking to old geezers."

Erick's grin widened, but he obediently scampered into the bedroll. He snuggled down and rolled onto his side to see Lance had settled down against a rock not far away. "Aren't you going to sleep, too?"

"Of course."

"Then where's your bedroll?" Erick asked in confusion.

Lance rolled his eyes, "A certain kid is using it right now. Besides, we're technically in hostile territory, and I'd rather be able to react in a moment's notice; getting tangled up in a bedroll is not conducive to that. Now go to sleep."

Erick was unsatisfied with that answer, and still wondering how Lance planned to sleep sitting up against a rock. But it had been a long, busy day, and he was very tired. His eyelids slowly drooped until they shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep. Lance watched the boy from where he sat on watch, though he would sleep lightly as well. He patted himself on the back for exhausting the kid into not dwelling. And, irritating comments aside, Erick was a bright young boy and quick on picking up fighting. He just hoped the emotional course stayed steady for a while longer, at least until they had horses and could outpace any potential pursuers.

The next morning, Lance jostled Erick awake, and left to go snag something to eat for breakfast with explicit directions to stay put. The boy nodded obediently and settled down against the rock Lance had leaned against the night before. He tilted his head back with a yawn to look up at the early morning sky. It was the first day in several that he'd risen with the sun, since before he'd been sent by his father to negotiate a stock trade with a neighboring farm. The thought sent a shard of pain through him. He glared down at his hands as he thought that he should have been there to help protect him. But he could almost hear Lance's acerbic voice saying almost immediately that he'd have only wound up dead alongside them.

"Hey, I found some game for breakfast," Lance's actual voice suddenly said.

Erick looked up again to see the gunner standing over him with a dead bird of some kind in one hand. He nodded silently and turned his gaze back down, prompting Lance to frown. The gunner scanned his charge with narrowed eyes for a moment before deciding the boy was dwelling. With a silent sigh, he turned to begin cleaning and jointing the kill to roast. A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke again.

"Go do some pushups," Lance said.

Erick started at the sudden order and frowned in confusion, "Pushups?"

"Yeah, to build your arm strength up."

The boy scowled, "What's it matter? I'm too small to do anything, anyway."

Lance paused in the process of building a spit to put over the fire he'd built, and turned to fix a sour look at the boy. "Oh, my mistake, I was under the impression you liked living," he said sarcastically. "Should I leave you to your own devices of getting strong on your own? Let me know how that goes for you, if you live."

Erick's head whipped up to glare at Lance with tears in his eyes as he spat, "It's easy for _you_ to say! I'm only thirteen, I have never had to fight for anything in my life, my family is _dead_ , and I'm too small to defend myself so I'm stuck traveling with some stranger with a bad attitude!"

Lance scowled back, and hissed, "I don't particularly care about your little self-pity party, you ungrateful, whiney, snot-nosed _brat_ , and I know the world at large doesn't care, either. You're may only be thirteen now, but it's escaped your notice that you'll get older. Everyone has to fight for something in their life sooner or later, and _you_ are no exception. As for traveling with me: I'm one of _the best_ bodyguards you could ever hope for. It was out of sympathy and understanding that I offered to teach you, but if you don't want to learn, then _fine_. Just shut up until we get to where we're going."

And with that, Lance turned his back on the stunned kid he'd just chewed out. The gunner speared the bird he'd cleaned onto the spit and set it over the fire. The air was silent and filled with tension as the meat cooked. Lance refused to look at the distraught kid behind him, who was silently crying. He said nothing as he jabbed a skewer of cooked meat in Erick's direction with one hand. The boy took it silently, and stared at it blankly without eating. Lance noted that and rolled his eyes with a huff as he finished off his share of the food.

"Eat. We've got a long way to walk today, and I'm definitely not carrying you," Lance ordered flatly as he moved to put out the fire.

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were hungry, now eat the damn food, brat."

Something in Lance's voice sent a shiver down the boy's spine, and he obediently began to nibble on the roast bird. As soon as he took that first bite, his stomach reminded him of exactly how hungry he was and he ate more quickly. As soon as he was done, Lance curtly said they were leaving. The boy scrambled to fall in step behind Lance. The entire day passed in almost complete silence aside from a brief battle where Lance deftly took out a pair of Earth Elementals that rose from the ground. He was ruthless with his magic and bullets and the fight barely took five minutes. Erick was in awe, and more so when Lance merely brushed off the fight as if it were nothing new.

That afternoon, they reach the town of Bluegrass and Lance headed directly for the stables. He ordered Erick to stay close and not talk to anyone. The boy distractedly nodded as he gaped at the bustling town. It was far bigger than the small hamlet he normally went to buy and sell things. People bustled everywhere, and there was a constant din as stall owners sold attempted to sway passersby to browse and buy their wares. Animals bayed and snorted everywhere, and children ran between adults' legs chasing each other.

"Yes, I need two horses; preferably fast, and docile if at all possible," Lance was saying to the owner of the horses.

"Let's see… I 'ave a pair of six year olds that seem ta be what yer lookin' for," the man replied, chewing slowly on a piece of straw in his mouth.

He gestured for Lance to follow, and by extension, Erick. He led them to a row of stalls and stopped in front of a pair that had two horses in them. One was a bay with a white blaze down its nose and white socks on its front feet. The other was almost pure black aside from a white star. The man led one out and then the other for Lance to inspect. The horses moved smoothly and calmly as they were led. Lance ran his hands over their legs, checking for swelling or deformations before nodding.

"They look good," he agreed. "How much for the pair, tack, and feed for a few days?"

"That'll come out to 'bout twenty-five grand," the man replied evenly.

Erick choked some at the price, but Lance merely replied, "Twenty."

"Twenty-four," the man countered.

"Twenty-one," Lance replied evenly.

"Twenty three; no lower," the seller said firmly.

Lance shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go browse around, then."

He turned to go, but was stopped by the man. "Wait, how about twenty-three, and I'll throw in some buckets for the feed and water as well as a pair o' picket lines on top o' some care tools?"

Lance turned back with a smile, and held out his hand, "It's a deal. Thank you."

They shook and soon Lance was tacking up the horses after paying out the twenty-three thousand gold. He had a brief discussion with the man who'd sold them, and left the horses there while he went to get supplies for their journey after paying two hundred for a short boarding fee. The man also promised to warm the horses up for their journey. Lance led Erick back out of the dim barn and into the busy streets. The gunner was peering around at the stalls, searching for one that would sell what he needed. Finally, he nodded to himself, and set off through the crowd with Erick struggling to keep up behind him.

"I need a cloak, some clothes suited for travel, and a bedroll for the boy with me," Lance was saying when Erick reached him.

The elderly woman smiled down at Erick and nodded as she brought out a series of clothes for Lance to inspect. A short discussion of quality and one hundred fifty thousand gold later—which was an insane price for such a small amount of goods to Erick—and the pair left with three outfits of rough fabric, two cloaks, and a bedroll with a fur lining.

Their next stop was a food stall where Lance bought a large supply of dried food for travel as well as a loaf of bread for the first leg of their journey. Erick was bored as he trotted after Lance to their third stop. He had had enough of the bustling town and he was hungry, but Lance showed no signs of slowing down or stopping for lunch. On top of that, Lance was making him carry his new clothing, and the packages were unwieldy and difficult to carry while weaving through the crowd. Plus, there was still a strained tension between them, as there had been all day. Thankfully, their third stop was inside, and there was a bench for him to sit down on.

"Yes, I need a pouch for the twerp with me," Lance said to the shop keeper. He hesitated before adding, "And a fighting knife, too, as well as any healing pots you might carry."

Erick looked up from his swinging feet at the strange order. Everything they'd bought until now had been related to traveling, but now it seemed as though Lance was preparing for battle. It didn't make much sense to get a knife, though: the gunner had a fine blade already that was far superior to a knife. But he soon lost interest in the conversation as the two adults began discussing wards, and seals, and other things far outside his understanding. Their tones were hushed as though they didn't want him hearing, anyway. Twenty minutes, and another two hundred thousand gold later, and they left the store. Erick was wondering how Lance had so much gold, or if maybe the gunner had a magical coin purse with infinite gold in it. Lance tucked the goods he had purchased into the new pouch, and tied it next to a similar one at his waist.

"Okay, let's get some food, and then we'll go," Lance announced through a sigh.

Erick brightened at the prospect of eating, and a bounce returned to his step. He followed Lance eagerly as the gunner headed for an open-air food court. They each got a bowl of hearty stew, a small loaf of bread to share, and some juice before sitting down at a table near the edge of the clusters. Erick began digging into his, eating rapidly and messily. A snort from Lance had him glancing up to see the man watching him with amusement. His cheeks heated in embarrassment as he became highly aware of a drop of stew on his nose. He subconsciously wiped it off with his finger.

"It's good," Erick claimed defensively.

Lance arched a brow, "Oh, I know. Don't worry: you don't have quite as bad of manners as one of my friends."

The conversation died after that as they focused on eating. Erick was swiping up the last bits of soup with a chunk of bread when Lance tensed. The gunner twisted to look down the street, and cursed under his breath. He slid the bench back and stood up calmly. Erick looked up in confusion, chewing on the bread in his mouth as Lance snatched his bundle of clothes and stuffed them in one of the magical pouches.

"What's wrong?" Erick asked.

Lance made a subtle gesture to keep quiet. "We need to go. Now. Don't rush, and don't look panicked," he said in a low tone.

Erick's eyes widened, but he tried to act casual as he followed Lance out of the food court. The gunner pretended to be inspecting the stalls they passed, pausing by one or two before shaking his head and moving on. The boy following him noticed, however, that they were on a steady course for the stables. They made it inside and saw their two horses tied and ready to go. Lance ordered Erick to check the saddles' tightness while he went to go find the stable owner to tell them they were leaving.

The boy did as he was asked, any and all previous antagonizing thoughts or feelings he had towards Lance were gone. His fingers were trembling as he pulled the girths tight from how they'd been loosened with no rider. He was afraid, he realized, afraid of whatever had Lance wanting to leave immediately. He recalled Lance's lessons in fighting the day before, and he really hoped he'd remember them if it came to actual combat. He relaxed some when Lance returned, and blinked in surprise when the gunner held out the pouch he'd bought as well as the knife.

"Don't stick yourself with the pointy end, and don't drop it," Lance said flatly as he fixed the knife belt with the pouch tied to it to the boy's waist and cinched it in place to keep it from slipping. He stood back and cupped his hands as a leg up for the boy, still talking, "It's not a throwing knife, so don't try that. Don't threaten anyone who isn't already threatening you. Don't point it towards yourself. Don't let it out of your sight. And for gods' sake, quit gaping at me and get on the damn horse."

Erick hadn't realized his jaw had dropped and he'd been staring at Lance. He scrambled forwards and was boosted onto the bay horse. Lance swiftly adjusted the stirrups for his shorter legs and held the lead until the boy had gripped the reins. He then moved for the black horse and untied it before vaulting into the saddle with a spring. He nudged the horse forwards, and led the way out of the barn. As soon as they were outside, Lance kicked his horse into a trot, heading for the nearby exit of the town. He glanced back to make sure Erick was keeping up, and nodded at the proper deep seat and foot placement in the stirrups the boy had. He turned his gaze forwards as they headed through the gate, and then waited for Erick to pass him before moving again. He urged their pace to a canter.

"You take the lead. Head northeast until I call for a change. If we end up in combat, get out of here as fast as you can. I'll find you, I promise," Lance told the boy in a tone of upmost seriousness over the steady drumming of hooves. He hesitated before adding, "If you need a place to stay until I reach you, then head home. There isn't much left, but at least it'll be a roof and water, and I doubt they'll look for you there after what they did to the place."

"Wh-what if they _do_ find me? What should I do?" Erick asked nervously. He tried to calm himself as he saw his mount's ears flick, catching his unease.

Lance noticed that, too, and spoke calmly and firmly, "They won't. Nothing and no one will get you so long as I'm alive, and they can't kill me. Don't worry, kid, you'll be fine."

Erick pouted at being called a kid again, but had relaxed immensely. He nodded, "Okay, I trust you, Lance."

Lance shot the boy's back a grim smile, but was soon distracted by a sound from behind them. He cursed under his breath as he looked back and saw two riders charging after them with weapons drawn. "We've got company. Ride ahead, Erick, I'll catch up soon. Remember your crash course in weapons, and don't lose your horse."

Erick's mount shot off like a bullet while Lance slowed his and turned to the side. He raised one palm and focused a narrow jolt of lightning through it. The bolt struck the front rider's horse in the chest. Immediately, the horse reared and toppled back, throwing its rider, and tripping the horse behind it. The thrown rider hit the ground and remained still, though whether dead or merely winded from the fall, Lance didn't know. But he didn't stop, instead loading a bullet into his gunblade. He lined up the shot and pulled the trigger.

Two things happened in the next instant. One, his target went down with a bullet in his head. Two, Lance's horse objected the over-loud sound from right next to it. It took off running, leaving Lance to drop his gunblade in favor of hauling back on the reins. He hadn't factored in the problem that the horses he'd bought were good for riding, but not trained for combat. He mentally berated himself for overlooking that important detail as he heaved on the reins, pulling hard with his right arm to force the horse to circle. He held tight to that turn, speaking calmly to the panicked animal all the while until it tired and grew dizzy enough to stop.

The gunner slid to the ground and gathered the reins up, still soothing the horse as he led it in a looser circle. The horse's flanks were gleaming with sweat, and it was breathing heavily, and though the whites of its eyes were still showing, it was rapidly calming down. Lance rubbed its shoulder, making a face at the wet hide, and led it back the short way they had run. His eyes scanned the grass for his discarded weapon, and he ruefully thought of his recent directions to Erick to never drop his weapon.

"Some example I'm setting, huh?" Lance asked the horse wryly as he spied his gunblade and scooped it up. The horse huffed in what Lance decided was reluctant sympathy. He looked back at the other two horses with a considering look. The two men had stayed down, meaning they were both probably dead. "Well, at least that will stop pursuers for now, I guess."

Lance swung back up onto his horse's back and turned to check the bodies to be sure. Both were dead, and their horses milled a short distance away. Neither horse looked injured, just nervous. Lance guided his horse closer to them and they remained still, watching his approach. They allowed him to swing down and search their saddle bags as they greeted his horse with soft nuzzles. Lance withdrew anything valuable as well as a warrant for Erick's life. He pursed his lips as he studied the warrant before pocketing it. He turned his eyes to the two other horses.

One was copper-colored chestnut mare with a brown mane and tail and no markings. The other was also a mare with a bay and white painted coat. He had no idea how old either was, but they moved easily and had good lines for speed. And they had weathered the falls they'd taken with ease, meaning they were relatively sturdy. Or lucky. He supposed either was a good thing to be.

"Well, I might as well take you with me," Lance told them as he fished out the two picket leads he'd gotten that morning and loosened their saddles a little. He clipped the leads to their bridles before swinging back onto his horse and tied the other ends to his saddle. "If nothing else, I can sell you somewhere for some extra gold. In the meantime, you can be our backup mounts so two can rest."

The horses' ears flicked at his voice, and while they balked some at being led, they soon followed easily enough. Lance turned his mind and sense towards finding Erick. The boy would have had a good head start, but Lance could still sense his faint mana signature, giving him a rough direction to head in. He kicked his horse into a trot and the two he was leading tossed their heads as their leads tightened before they picked up the pace. All was still and silent aside from the rhythmic drumming of hooves.

They passed a shallow stream where Lance found hoof prints in the mud as he watered the horses. He figured they must be from Erick's mount, and considering the direction they were headed, the boy was arrowing for home. They set off again, this time at a canter until they reached the remains of the farm. The fields were burned and barren, and the house was ransacked with broken windows and front door, but still stood. The barn stood as well, though burn marks showed how the attackers had attempted to burn it. Lance sensed Erick was in the barn at the moment, and he called a greeting.

"Hey, I'm here, kid."

There was a rustle from the barn before the boy's head warily poked out. Erick's face was tight with worry, but slackened at the sight of Lance with no wounds. The boy soon became confused at the sight of two more horses, but shrugged it off as he came out to take one from Lance to lead inside the barn where he'd stowed his own horse with some hay and water. Lance led the other two in behind the boy.

"Was everything clear on your way here?" Lance asked Erick.

The boy nodded, though his voice was subdued, "Yeah, I had no trouble." He was silent for a few moments before saying, "I… hadn't fully believed what you said about… about my family, but I can't deny it, now."

Lance blew out a sigh as he looked around. "My friends and I split up to get the families with mana around here to safety. I tried to get here quickly, but I was still too slow," he recalled quietly. His eyes narrowed as he added coldly, "I couldn't believe the Sect would kill an innocent farm family because their ancestors used magic. The only ones who'd been killed before now were people who actively used magic. The ones who simply had the potential were rounded up and incarcerated, not killed."

Erick swallowed as he whispered, "I didn't even know my family could ever use magic." He raised an arm to brush away the tears budding in his eyes. When he pulled his arm away, he had a look of almost desperate determination. He met Lance's gaze and said firmly, "Please keep teaching me how to fight, and teach me how to use my magic. You're right that I won't be thirteen and small forever, so I might as well get a head start on learning. I want to be able to defend myself and the people important to me so nothing like this ever happens on my watch."

Lance studied the boy in front of him for several long, silent moments. Finally, he smirked, "Alright, that's what I like to hear. I'll teach you what I can, and you'll be the most dangerous thirteen year old alive." He held his hand up to halt Erick's excited thanks and added very seriously, " _But_ I do not want you ever using what I'm going to teach you for the wrong reasons. Fighting should be done to defend yourself or as a way of life, not for vengeance. I don't want you getting it into your head that you can get revenge for your family with the skills I'll be giving you. You won't manage it before this mess is done with, anyway."

Erick nodded firmly, "Of course. Killing them won't make my family come back, and it will give them a reason to come after me."

Lance didn't mention that the Sect already had a reason to come after him simply because of his mana. Instead, he nodded approvingly, "Very good. Now, we'll spend the night here, but we won't start training until tomorrow. I want you to spend tonight resting and mourning. It's important to come to complete terms with your loss so it won't distract you in the future. I don't expect you to manage that all tonight, but do what you can while you're here. The graves are behind the house. I marked them with their names."

Erick nodded again, this time with a distressed frown. He turned to leave the barn and headed for the three graves, exactly where Lance had said they'd be. The markers were simple, made of wood with the roughly carved names of his parents and sister on them. Three chipped mugs had been salvaged from the house and each bore a bouquet of flowers as offerings. The flowers were beginning to wilt, however, so Erick left to get some fresh wildflowers to replace them. After that, he merely knelt in front of the graves and prayed for his family to rest well.

Hours passed and the sun set before Lance came with two plates of food. He held one out to Erick and sat down beside the boy. He didn't comment on the tears on the boy's cheeks or the way he turned away as though ashamed of crying. He ran his eyes over the fresh flowers at the bases of the markers, and offered his own silent prayer and a promise to look out for their surviving son and brother.

"I used to play hopscotch with Rachel here," Erick suddenly said. He'd silently eaten his food and was now looking across the dirt yard. He gave a soft, sad laugh. "She was so bad at it; couldn't balance on one foot for anything. That didn't stop her from trying, though. She always claimed the ground tripped her when she fell down."

Lance nodded slightly, but said nothing. He could tell the boy was just remembering, and speaking aloud—perhaps not even to him, but to the graves. After a few moments, the boy went on, recalling many moments and quirks of his family. He talked about how his mother made the best cherry pie, and would pretend she didn't see him and his sister poking their fingers in the filling before she was done to taste it, but would scold them for it later. He remembered how he'd help his dad with the fields during the day, and how the man had taught them during the night. He talked about a tree he loved to climb at the far end of the field and how he used to want to build a tree house in it, but had ultimately decided he liked being able to move around the branches. He talked and talked about the animals they had raised and crops they grew, about holidays and chores, about bad storms and stories. He talked himself into tears, but didn't let that stop him. At some point Lance had pulled him into a one armed hug, and the boy leaned into his side.

It was the second time the boy had cried himself to sleep, and the second time Lance carried him to his bedroll, spread out on a pile of soft hay in the barn. But unlike the first time it had happened, Erick was smiling in his sleep, fondly remembering his family. And when he woke in the morning at Lance's shake, his eyes glittered with resolve to become strong. They spent an hour before breakfast training together before eating. They brushed their horses out before tacking them up, and Erick procured some more lines from the tack room in the barn to bring with them. He listened intently to Lance's directions on the magic pouch at his waist and pulled out everything Lance had stored within the day before. He had a stash of healing potions to heal himself in emergencies if Lance couldn't heal him, or in the rare but possible case that the gunner was unconscious and needed healing. He also had two canteens full of water, a supply of dried food, a flint and steel and tinder for fire, his clothes, a small pouch full of gold, a whetstone to sharpen his knife, a map, and a strange amulet.

"It'll hide your mana," Lance explained when Erick held it up. He held the boy's eyes as he explained, "Wear it under your clothes to avoid people tracking you by your magic. If we're ever separated for more than an hour, put it on. I can find you still, albeit with some trouble, but most people won't be able to. You'll wear it in towns from now on, too."

"Do you have one?" Erick asked as he ran his finger over the dull green stone set into the pendant. It hadn't occurred to him before then that Lance would be a hunted man because he used magic.

Lance nodded, "Yes, but I almost never use it. I want to attract their attention because I can kill the idiots behind this mess. And if they're actively looking for me, then they're ignoring people like you who have mana, but can't use it or aren't as strong. My own mana will more than drown yours out if you're near me."

"Got it," Erick said with a nod as he replaced all his supplies in his pouch. He tied the pouch firmly to his belt and tested the knot before tugging on his cloak to cover it and his knife.

"One more thing," Lance added after he'd boosted Erick into the saddle of the bay horse he'd ridden the day before. "If we are separated for a long time, head north. Our ultimate goal is a place called Winterstone. Don't trust anyone on your way. I have friends I'd trust you with, but you don't know what they look like, and they don't know you at all, and we're well enough known that people will try to trick you with our names."

"How many friends?" Erick asked as he gathered up his reins. The paint horse was tied to his saddled, and stood calmly not far away.

"Only three in my group," Lance replied as he mounted. "There's a swordsman named Matt, a mage named Natalie, and a ranger named Anna. I trust each of them with my life, and they're just as strong and skilled as I am; more so, in some ways. We may run across one of them on our trip, but it's doubtful."

The pair set out, leaving behind the farm. As they traveled that day, Lance began to teach Erick about how to control mana. By lunch, the boy hadn't quite grasped it, but he was trying. By afternoon, he was managing a few weak sparkles, but nothing substantial. They spent an hour before bed doing physical training again, including how to use a knife. The next day passed much the same, though they had switched the horses they were riding. Erick now rode the paint mare while Lance rode the chestnut mare. They skirted a town as they continued their journey north. Erick continued to focus on his magic during the ride, though he also chatted with Lance, learning a little more about the gunner and his teammates. The boy began to realize and really appreciate that Lance was quite brilliant, and not truly mean, but definitely blunt in his speech and approach. He also realized that the gunner, while always trying to do the right thing for him, quickly got frustrated if Erick began to complain and pout. He supposed the man hadn't had much contact with children before—not that _he_ was a child, of course.

"We should name the horses," Erick suggested one evening after he'd rubbed the animals' legs down, something he'd taught Lance was important for an animal's health after a lot of exercise.

Lance arched a brow, "Why? They won't understand you."

Erick arched a brow back, a habit he was picking up from Lance. "Because it would be easier and faster to call for a specific horse than to say, _hey, bring me the brown one—no, the other brown one_."

Lance snorted at the poor imitation of his voice, but admitted Erick had a point. The scenario he'd just been given was one that had happened that morning. "Fine, we can name the beasts. What should we call them? I somehow doubt horse one through four is going to sit well with you."

"Hmm," Erick hummed as he studied the small herd of horses picketed not far away and grazing peacefully. "We'll call the paint Splash-"

"Very creative," Lance said sarcastically.

Erick ignored him and went on, "And the bay can be… Walnut."

"The names only get better, too," Lance smirked. He chuckled when the boy shot him a look.

"Well why don't you name the two you've been riding since my names are so boring?" Erick huffed.

Lance's eyebrows shot up, "Do One and Two work?"

"Now look who's so creative," the boy mocked. He ducked a small rock thrown at him, and tossed a chunk of bread back.

Lance rolled his eyes as he caught the bread and ate it, and said, "Well, since clearly one of us has to be creative at naming, and One and Two are dumb names, anyway, I'll call the black one Arrow, and the chestnut Sage."

"Okay, those are pretty good," Erick admitted around a mouthful of bread. He swallowed and added, "I like them—the horses I mean. I've never ridden a better one before."

"Well don't get too attached to them, because I'm planning on selling two of them when we get to a town that will buy them, and the other two when we get to Winterstone," Lance grunted. At Erick's pout, he blew out a long-suffering sigh and said, "Fine, we'll keep one, but that's it."

"You are such a softy," Erick chuckled. He regretted that a moment later when Lance ordered him to do forty pushups before bed, and the gunner crawled into his bedroll with exaggerated noises of comfort. "I take it back, you're evil," he muttered as he moved to do the pushups.

"Make it fifty pushups," Lance replied without looking back.

Wisely, Erick remained quiet for the rest of the workout.

The next morning dawned gray and chilly. But despite the obvious signs of later rain, Lance had Erick do the usual hour of physical training. The boy had gotten quite good over the past week of traveling with Lance. He still had yet to hit the gunner, but he did manage to dodge almost all of the hits Lance made at him. He wished his magic was progressing as smoothly as his fighting, though. He hadn't been able to get anywhere past some harmless sparkles no matter what Lance suggested he try or how he pushed himself. When he mentioned his frustration to Lance, the gunner shrugged.

"Well, it's always possible that you just don't have enough innate mana to cast spells," Lance told the boy as they rode. He shot Erick a sympathetic smile when the boy gave a disappointed sigh. "Hey, my friend Matt can't really use his magic either, and he's still an amazing fighter. And it's also possible that you just need to be a little older before your magic develops to the point where you can use it. Keep practicing at it."

Erick nodded slightly with a frown. He'd been looking forwards to using magic. Barely a second later, and he saw Lance stiffen and twist to look behind them. He was about to look, but a hand on his chest shoved him clean off Splash. He hit the ground with a grunt and heard a sharp cracking sound that he recognized as a bullet. The paint horse reared and took off, still tied to Walnut who ran after her. Another crack sounded, and Lance let out a grunt and whirled his horse to run back the way they'd come. Erick stayed down, realizing Lance had pushed him down to keep him out of sight. He heard a few brief yells and the thundering of hooves before Lance's horses dashed past.

The smell of burning air rose up and the ground shook briefly, and Erick couldn't help lifting his head to see what was happening. His jaw dropped wide open at what he saw. Lance had summoned a purple lightning storm to engulf a group of fighters. He currently had his gunblade locked against another man's longsword, but smoothly ducked out of the lock when he was attacked from the side, sending the first man stumbling forwards off balance into the second man. He nimbly twisted over a different slash and shot a third fighter dead while still in the air, landing on his shoulder to roll into a stab. The lightning sparked out of existence only to be replaced with fire. The remaining fighters screamed as they died, leaving only Lance standing over their bodies.

Erick was stunned: he'd never seen or heard of anyone who fought that well. But his awe soon faded as he saw Lance press one hand against his stomach with a wince. Immediately, Erick scrambled to his feet to run over to Lance. He stopped before reaching the gunner when the man whipped around to level his gunblade at him with a wild look in his eyes. Before the boy could make any movement or noise, however, Lance lowered his weapon with a shaky sigh. He gestured Erick closer, and frowned when the boy seemed hesitant to approach.

"I'm not going to shoot you," Lance said impatiently. He rolled his eyes and went on when Erick remained still, "Look, it was just an instinct. You were running up to me right after a fight, and I thought you might be another enemy. Now get over here so I don't have to yell."

Erick finally approached with a hesitant and apologetic smile. His smile soon faded away in favor of a scrunched up expression at the stench of burning flesh. "Yuck," he muttered as he reached Lance's side. He peered at the now-bloody hand Lance had pressed to his torso and asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"

"That is _the_ dumbest question anyone has ever asked," Lance said flatly. He sarcastically muttered to himself, " _Am I okay?_ For gods' sake, can you not _see_ the blood?"

Erick flinched, and asked in a small voice, "Are you going to _be_ okay?"

Lance snorted at that, but his expression softened a little at the obvious distress on Erick's face. "I'll be fine, don't worry. I've already used a little healing magic on it, but I'm not actually very good at that so I'll need to bandage the wound. Do you think you can retrieve our horses while I do that?"

The boy nodded and turned to peer across the grassy field. He saw one of the pairs of horses not far away, and set off after it. Just as he did so, the first few drops of rain began to fall. Lance let out a grumble with a sour glance at the cloudy sky, but ultimately ignored the falling water, and sat down to inspect his wound. He let out a hiss as the movement jostled the bullet he could still feel buried in the flesh. The gunner took a deep breath, and pulled out a small knife from his adventure pouch to dig the bullet free. Each motion caused an excruciating jolt of agony to shoot through him, and he repeatedly wished that Natalie or Anna were there to use some healing magic.

"I suppose I've been spoiled," he muttered to himself through gritted teeth with a grim smirk as he finally dislodged the bullet.

A short spurt of blood followed the object, and Lance let it run for the moment as he dug out a roll of bandage and the antiseptic. A few minutes of hissed curses later—from cleaning the wound and struggling with the bandage—and he had successfully wrapped the wound. He let out a sigh of relief as he allowed his shirt to drop back over the bandage, and sipped some water to clear his head before pushing his now-sodden bangs out of his eyes to peer after Erick. It was taking the boy a long time to retrieve their mounts, but he could just see their shapes in the distance.

Erick had successfully retrieved all four horses, though it taken longer than he would have liked. The horses were all skittish after the brief but loud battle, and he'd had to calm them before approaching. But now he was back on Splash, and leading the other three towards where Lance was just stiffly getting off the ground. The boy felt a flash of worry for the man at the obvious pain in his movements. He wondered if maybe they should find a place to rest until Lance had healed, and resolved to ask Lance about doing so.

"How're you feeling?" Erick asked as he pulled up beside Lance.

"Like I've been shot," Lance grunted nonchalantly with a smirk at his own twisted humor. He reached for the reins of Arrow, and let out a short grunt as he swung into the saddle. He missed Erick's gaze flicking between focusing on the watery blood staining his hand, and the bloody strip of bandage he'd used to clean the wound left on the ground. He did, however, glance around when the boy cleared his throat, "What's up?"

"Is there anywhere we can go so you can rest up?" Erick asked.

Lance arched a brow, "You think this little scratch is going to be a problem? I've had way worse in the past, trust me."

"But still…"

"I'll be fine," Lance said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "Now come on, we can still cover some distance, even in this miserable weather."

Without any further pause, the gunner wheeled his horse north and kicked its sides to start moving. Neither his expression nor his posture showed any of the discomfort he felt with every step that jolted his wound. Erick followed silently behind the man, still frowning with worry.

Their traveling was, as Lance had described it, miserable. The rain had soaked their clothing so that it clung to their skin, and filled their boots with water. The air was chilly, and made worse by the wetness. They had to be careful where they let their mounts walk, as the road was very slick with mud in places. Finally, Lance decided they should simply call it a day as they passed a rocky overhang. Erick swung down and moved to picket his horses not far away. He then did the same with Lance's horses without a word. The gunner moved under the rocky overhang and tossed down his bedroll before working to peel off his sodden clothes to change into dry ones. But he paused in taking his shirt off, unable to quite suppress a sharp inhale of pain as he strained his injury.

"Let me help," Erick offered in a worried voice. He didn't wait for Lance's reply, but began tugging on the hem of the gunner's shirt to pull it up over his head.

"Thanks," Lance mumbled as he watched Erick spread his jacket and shirt out to dry. He was able to get his own pants off by himself, and pulled on a dry pair.

Erick changed his own clothes, occasionally shooting concerned looks at Lance and the bloody bandage wrapped around his waist. "Maybe we should change that bandage or use a healing potion?" he ventured.

Lance shook his head, "No potions on something as minor as this. We only have five, and they're potent enough that I'd rather save them for a serious wound." He shifted slightly before adding, "But changing the bandage is a good idea. I'll try some more healing since the bullet is out now, too."

Erick opened his mouth to protest, but gave up with a frustrated sigh when Lance merely arched a brow and began unwinding the bandage around his stomach. He moved forwards to help when he saw the gunner's stiff movements that betrayed the pain he was still in. The boy bit his lower lip as he carefully peeled the bloody bandage away from the wound, causing Lance to let out an unintentional hiss and the wound began to trickle fresh blood. Erick subconsciously hushed Lance as he began cleaning the wound with shaking hands. It wasn't the first cut he'd bandaged before as he often helped when his family or a worker had gotten hurt from farm equipment, but the thoughts of what could happen to him if Lance died from infection or being weakened were scary. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he was also afraid of what those facts meant for Lance.

"Leave the bandage off for a little while, give it a chance to scab," Lance suddenly said, breaking into Erick's thoughts.

The boy started slightly, and realized he'd finished cleaning the wound and had automatically reached for a fresh roll of bandage. He nodded slightly and moved back to snag some of the food from his adventure pouch to offer to Lance. The gunner fixed him with a half-amused, half-exasperated look as he accepted the food.

"You need to relax, Erick," Lance said firmly. He bit into the apple he'd been given and mumbled, "Seriously, you're acting like my mother or something."

 **OOOOOO**

Erick's eyes widened in fear as he watched Lance take a hit and stumble before toppling to the ground. The weakness caused by fever from infection had done exactly what Erick had feared it would, and cost Lance the battle—and likely his life. The gunner was going to be killed, and his charge soon after.

Without any real thought or consideration, Erick leapt out of his hiding place behind the tree, and charged forwards. Subconsciously, he drew the dagger strapped to his waist, and rammed it into the back of the man standing over Lance with a sword raised. The man howled in surprised pain, but wasn't stopped by the blow. But then, Erick felt a wild tug on something within him, and electricity suddenly shot out from the dagger. With a startled shout, the boy let go of the blade and staggered back to watch wide-eyed as lightning arced over the man's erratically shaking body before blinking out.

The man stayed where he was for a moment, steaming and twitching, until he toppled back, dead. Glazed eyes were frozen wide with pain and shock, staring sightlessly upwards. Angry red webbing stretched across the skin of his face, and the air was filled with the awful stench of burning flesh. Erick gaped at what he'd done, his face pale and his eyes wide. Abruptly, he felt a wave of nausea, and promptly vomited on the ground. He'd killed a man, his mind chanted over and over. Someonewas dead forever because of his direct actions. He threw up again at the thought.

Erick was trembling as he finally worked his body under control. He took a shuddering breath in, but cut it off when the stench filled his nostrils. Tears welled in his eyes as he tore them away from the corpse, and over to Lance. The gunner had been unnervingly silent, and hadn't moved from where he was crumpled on the ground. With a sharp inhale, Erick temporarily forgot about the murder, and darted over to Lance's side to inspect his wounds. He refused to consider the possibility that the gunner was dead. Lance had promised they couldn't kill him, and Lance didn't break promises.

Blood stained a tear in the gunner's green camo jacket, and his skin was unhealthily pale. But his cheeks were still flushed from fever and glistened with sweat, and he still sucked in raspy breaths. Erick let out a shaky laugh and tugged away the gunblade still loosely grasped in Lance's right hand. It would be bad to be decapitated before finishing tending the wounded man, after all. But Lance remained out for the entire time his wounds were cleaned and bandaged. The infected wound was swollen and an angry red, and to Erick's alarm, getting a yellowish crust on the edges. Red lines stretched out from the wound, snaking across Lance's skin, and showing just how badly the infection had progressed.

"I told you we should have stopped to rest," Erick whispered as he fished out one of the healing potions he had. This situation definitely fell under desperate enough to require one of the five potions.

But to Erick's horror, he couldn't get Lance to swallow much, if any, of the remedy. He tried smearing some on the wound, but it didn't have any noticeable effect. Panic raced through him, now. He was in the middle of nowhere with Lance down and probably dying. The nearest village was over a day away on foot, and the horses had run off again. Plus Lance would need to be protected while so incapacitated, so he couldn't just leave him here to go get help. If there was even anyone at the town who _could_ or _would_ help them.

"Heh… guess you were right… for once… kid," Lance suddenly rasped.

Erick's head snapped up to fix a watery look on Lance to find feverish eyes looking back. Immediately, he snatched up the potion and held it out to Lance. "Quick, drink this," he urged in a shaky tone.

Lance shook his head, and blinked slowly. "Potions don't… heal infection…" He sluggishly reached for his adventure pouch and withdrew a small metal cross to hold out for Erick to take."Here… my friends will… will recognize this… just pin it to…the tie of your cloak. Don't forget to wear… your pendant…"

Tears began rushing down Erick's cheeks as he realized Lance was telling him to move on by himself. "I can't just abandon you here," he whimpered even as he took the cross.

Lance took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, the air rattling in his chest. "Erick… I'm not going to make it… without healing magic… and no healer in their right mind… is practicing magic right now… And my friends need to know… what happened to me… Please…"

Erick gave a choked sob and curled over to press his forehead against Lance's chest, away from his wounds. "But I don't want to leave you here! You're my friend, too! And why should they be nice to me if I let you die?"

"Because they're idiots…" Lance rasped with a weak chuckle that broke off in a cough. He shut his eyes and said as firmly as he could, "Go."

Erick uncurled and stood up. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and glared down at Lance. "I'll be back with help," he told the gunner as he reached for Lance's adventure pouch to withdraw the gunner's own mana suppressing pendant and strung it around the man's neck. "And if you die before I get back, I'll… I'll… I'll decorate your grave with the most girly things I can imagine, and I'll tell everyone you got killed by one idiot that a kid took out."

Lance snorted, "Ah… a kid after my own heart… But don't be so stupid… Get yourself to safety…"

But Erick had already run off. The boy crashed through the trees, following hoof prints and broken branches signaling where the horses had run through. As he ran, and to keep himself from considering worst-case scenarios, he inwardly made plans to train the horses to quit running off at the first loud noise. He was sick of chasing them down to retrieve.

Luckily, Splash hadn't run very far. The paint horse was watching him when he burst through the trees, and danced back a little at his entrance, but didn't bolt again. It only took him a couple of minutes to grab her reins and check for any injury. He then led her to a fallen tree to mount her, and spun her in the direction ofthe nearby town. The pair flashed through the trees, following a narrow trail, and leaping obstacles. It was a recklessly fast pace, but Erick didn't slow it. The sooner he found a healer, the sooner he could get them to help Lance. The extra weight at his neck from the metal pin only reminded him of the terrible state his guardian was in.

But he was forced to slow after a while to allow Splash to recover. Sweat streaked the mare's flanks, and she was huffing heavily, but maintained a steady trot. Erick itched to push her faster, but knew that he needed her to carry both him and the healer back. Plus the horse was his favorite of the four, and he didn't want to ruin her. But the animal seemed to sense his urgency, because she soon picked the pace up to a run, and maintained that pace until they could see the small town on the horizon. Erick slowed his mount at the gates, and slipped down to tie her to a hitching post. He paid twenty gold to the man there to rub her down and give her a little water, but not to feed her before he headed into the town.

Barely five minutes later, and he was being stopped.

"Hey, you, kid," a woman called.

Erick tensed and glanced over his shoulder. He saw a young woman with green hair and a bow over her shoulder coming straight for him with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. Instantly, he bolted, sprinting down the streets. He lost himself in the crowd at the market, and began looping around for the alleys. As he entered an alley, he cursed the woman for delaying him in finding a healer. He ran into a pair of legs a second after having that thought, and toppled to the ground.

"Not fast enough, kid," the woman he'd been trying to lose said as she hauled him up by one arm. She kept a firm grip on him as he began struggling to get away, her strength more than enough to keep him there. "Where'd you get that badge?"

Erick stilled at that, a wave of hope filling him. He turned to look up at the woman studying him, and saw a chain around her neck that had a pendant exactly like his own hanging from it."Are you… are you Anna or Natalie?" he asked with desperation.

The woman became very still. "You've met Lance, haven't you? Where is he?"

"He… he's been badly hurt. The potion won't help, and he told me to go, and… please, can you help him?"

He watched the woman's eyes widened before she let go and gestured for him to lead.

"Let's go, you can tell me more once we're out of town," was all she said.

Erik felt a rush of elation and immediately turned to lead the way back to Splash. The woman walked beside him, quietly urging him to slow down every little while. Her eyes discretely scanned the crowd around them, reminding him of Lance's own surveillance. He wondered which of Lance's friends she was, but held in his questions until they were riding off. Luckily, the woman had her own horse, a chestnut mare she called Honey. Before long, they were riding side by side, and Erick was telling the woman, who'd finally introduced herself as Anna, everything that had happened.

Anna was silent for the most part, her eyes fixed ahead of them as she finally said, "Thanks for making the right choice in looking for help. Lance should know better than to be such a drama queen."

"I don't think he knew you were so close by," Erick said with a hint of defensiveness. "I wasn't even sure there were any healers in that village."

"There weren't any healers in that village. They were executed last week," Anna snorted. She cast a brief look over at Erick before turning her eyes back ahead. "It was foolish of you to go into town. They've got a warrant out on your life."

Erick's eyes widened in surprise. "That must be why Lance has been avoiding towns..."

"Probably. I'm going to guess, by your surprise, he didn't tell you you're a wanted boy. That'll be another thing I chew him out over. How far are we from him?"

"Um, I don't... know?" Erick admitted awkwardly. He glanced around, trying to judge their pace. "I was moving a lot faster heading into town. He's in a forest, though."

Anna's brows rose as she dryly said, "Very helpful. There are dozens of forests out here, you know. When did you set out?" Inwardly, she sighed as Erick looked even more lost. "Never mind. Remind me to teach you some basic survival skills after we've patched Lance up."

Instead, she asked after what Lance had been doing over the past few weeks, trying to get an insight on Erick's abilities and the gunner's motive. They were rather far off course, after all. Erick described Lance training him in combat, and directing his magical development. Unfortunately, it was rather apparent that he'd glazed over teaching the boy other skills. It was typical of all her teammates to not consider things like measuring time and distance as things important enough to teach; she doubted Lance had covered basic scouting and tracking, either.

More fodder for her lecture, she silently joked to herself.

Over an hour passed before they reached the forest Erick had left Lance in. Once inside, however, the boy became completely turned around, unable to recall what route he'd taken after finding Splash, or where Lance lay. Luckily for him, Anna quickly located the broken brush and branches of his headlong charge through the woods, and followed the path back to a bloody clearing and a gray corpse.

"He- he was here!" Erick swore in a high voice. He pointed wildly at a patch of grass and moss. "I left him right there!"

"Well, clearly he didn't stay right there," Anna pointed out in a calm voice. "That means one of two things: either he moved himself, or someone found him and moved him."

Erick looked devastated, and his voice was small as he asked, "You mean he might have been captured?"

Already his mind was going through all the worst case scenarios. His family had been butchered for being suspected of having magical capabilities. Lance could actually use magic. What would the deranged group do to him, and after so long of evading and killing them? Lance had been defenseless. Erick had left him defenseless to go off on a wild goose chase.

"Calm down, Erick," Anna soothed easily, her eyes scanning the ground and surrounding bushes. It wasn't hard to guess what the boy was thinking, and she briefly wondered at his attachment to her prickly friend. "Even if he's been captured—which is pretty unlikely, based off of what I'm seeing here—they won't kill him right away. He's too valuable as a hostage or bait to just kill him outright."

Erick swallowed heavily with tears in his eyes. "What you're seeing here?" he repeated in a shaky voice.

Anna spared him a brief, calm smile and gestured him closer. "I'm a tracker," she explained easily. "I pick out the tiny signs left by people or creatures passing, and I follow them. See these indents here? Lance boosted himself up by one hand, and his heels dug into the dirt. There aren't any other footprints around where he was lying, which means nobody hauled him up, and that means he moved himself. And if he's in as bad of shape as you described, then he can't have gotten far. We'll find him, alright?"

As Erick nodded, Anna decided to keep the other details she'd noted to herself. Lance hadn't stood up in one try, and he'd staggered out of the clearing. Furthermore, he was bleeding, and the scent of blood would attract monsters to his location—which was likely why he'd chosen to move. It was odd that she couldn't sense him, but then she mused that he'd likely donned his mana suppression amulet. It was too bad, as tracking his mana would have been much faster and more efficient, but it wasn't her sole way of finding him. Briefly, her eyes lingered on the corpse of the attacker, and she frowned before nodding at the body.

"Did you kill him?"

Erick winced, his face going pale. "Y-yes," he admitted meekly. Almost immediately, he went on in a defensive tone. "He was going to kill Lance. I didn't have a choice."

"Hey, I'm not judging," Anna soothed.

She took note of the guilt lurking in Erick's eyes, and made a mental note to confront and potentially comfort him later. It was highly likely that the man had been the boy's first kill. For the moment, however, she merely stooped beside the body, and plucked the knife from its back to wipe clean on the man's shirt before passing the weapon to Erick.

"Don't leave your weapons behind," she scolded as she turned to lead the way into the trees after Lance.

Erick mumbled something along the lines of oops, before falling silent. A few minutes later, and he jumped as Anna suddenly began shouting.

" _Lance, we're coming to you, so don't you dare shoot us!_ "

The ranger's words echoed through the trees, scaring a few birds into flight. Erick gaped at her for the complete disregard of stealth and caution, but she affected not to notice his stare. Anna looked as calm and collected as ever as she confidently followed an invisible trail between the trees. In a way, she reminded him a lot of Lance: she was as methodical in her approach, had the same level headedness in a crisis, and wasn't afraid to let him know he'd screwed up. The only real differences were that she was a girl, and didn't seem prone to the playful taunting Lance enjoyed. He wondered if it was messed up of him to miss the sarcastic insults of everything he did.

"There you are, Lance."

The cheerful announcement broke Erick from his thoughts, and he eagerly peered around Anna, expecting to see Lance. All he saw was a large tree, and he glanced up at Anna in confusion, only to see her looking up as well; her expression was much more concerned than her tone had betrayed. He followed her gaze and saw a slumped form in one of the lowest branches above their heads.

Lance was dully watching them, his eyes half-lidded and glazed from fever. His gunblade was draped across his lap, loosely grasped in his right hand, but he seemed to lack the energy required to lift it. In fact, Erick inwardly mused, he looked too weak to have gotten up in the tree in the first place.

Anna seemed to be in unspoken agreement with his assessment. "Need help getting down?"

"Pro'ly," Lance slurred. He blinked twice before frowning slightly. "Wait... what're you doing here?"

"Saving your sorry ass, obviously," Anna snorted as she shouldered her bow. She nimbly clambered into the tree and up to his level before complaining. "Why'd you have to pick up a tree as your hiding place? How the hell did you even get up here?"

Despite his poor condition, Lance managed a faint smirk. "An' here I thought you'd like the idea of me up a tree."

"Not if I have to haul your heavy ass down it," Anna grumbled. "C'mon, gimme your arm, left leg first."

Erick watched with a kind of awe as Anna called Lance an ass twice in less than a minute without the gunner doing more than sighing. And she was much stronger than she appeared, seeming to have no trouble helping support Lance on the precarious climb down, or even lower his entire weight when he seemed too weak to manage alone. And she did it all while balanced on narrow tree branches. Erick liked to think he was pretty nimble in a tree, but he was nowhere near Anna's level of balance and comfort.

"How's the wound?" he asked in a small voice once the pair were back on the ground and Anna was unwrapping the bandages.

Anna tsked with a frown as she peeled the bandage away to reveal an oozing, week-old, badly infected, bullet wound. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the sour smell, and she raised her eyes to Lance's. For the moment, she ignored Erick.

"I'm going to have to bleed it some before I can start healing it. This is pretty deep and well on its way to rotting. I don't want to seal some of it inside."

Lance tilted his head back to rest against the trunk and shut his eyes. "Do what you have to. I trust you."

Anna nodded before turning to Erick. "Get a small fire going and start boiling a canteen of water. I'm going to go track some herbs down, and I'll be right back. Yell if there's trouble, and smack Lance if he starts moving."

Lance gave a breathy snort at that, causing Erick to give a tense grin as he saluted. Anna clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder as she stood, then vanished into the trees. Silence fell between the two left, though Erick busied himself with clearing a fire pit and lining it with a mud wall. Soon a pile of sticks and dried grass was built in the center before a match was dropped on them to start the flames. All the while, he was aware of the sickly, rasping breathing of Lance, and the way the gunner remained so still. It wasn't until he'd placed his metal canteen full of water in the flames that Lance spoke.

"Where'd you find Anna?"

"In that hamlet we skirted this morning," Erick replied quietly. He braced himself for the lecture of endangering his life and ignoring Lance's clear directions to keep pushing north.

"What do you think of her?"

Erick glanced around in confusion, but Lance's eyes were still closed. He tilted his head in thought and slowly said, "I like her, I think. She seems talented and strong, and she didn't think twice before following me out here, either. She seems like a bit of an airhead at times, though. I don't think shouting when we're being hunted is a good idea." He looked up and around in alarm when Lance began wheezing. "What's wrong?!"

But Lance was simply laughing. "Airhead, huh?" he repeated in an amused rasp. "I wouldn't label her an airhead if I were you, and I certainly wouldn't repeat that where she might hear you. Anna's incredibly intelligent, and very calculated. On top of that, she's the most versatile member of my team with a wide range of skills and the creativity to reinvent each one."

Erick frowned as he absorbed that information. "I still don't think shouting was a good plan. I mean, you couldn't shoot your gunblade without dropping it right now, and she said she could follow your trail, so why yell?"

"Because yelling would attract attention."

Erick leapt a foot on the air in shock, and whipped around to see Anna smirking at him with a bundle of leaves in one hand. He'd never heard her approach, and by Lance's start, neither had the gunner. Still, he scooted aside at her gesture so that she could place her own dagger beside the fire with the blade resting in the flames, and settled back on his heels to watch as she sorted her plants out and began mashing a few into a green paste with a small mortar and pestle she procured from her adventure pouch.

"Why would you want to attract attention?" Erick finally ventured.

Anna nodded at Lance, who was silently watching her prepare her tools. "On the off chance that I was wrong and someone was hunting him. I would be considered a threat, and any fighter would switch focus and concern from him to me. And don't assume Lance couldn't manage a perfect shot between your eyes even in his condition."

"You flatter me," Lance drawled tiredly.

Anna grinned at him as she retrieved her dagger and moved to kneel at his side to offer a strip of leather. "Not as much as you flatter me. Now bite down on this. I'm going to work as fast as I can, so bear with me."

Erick watched wide-eyed as Anna slid the red hot tip of her dagger into Lance's wound. Immediately, the stench of burning flesh filled the air, and he gagged as he covered his nose. Anna sliced a neat cut from just above the bullet wound to just below it before setting her dagger aside to press a cloth to the now oozing cut. The cloth, when she finally pulled it away, was stained a yellowish red from pus and blood. But Anna didn't stop there. Instead, she smeared the green paste she'd made onto the wound and packed it in before removing the leather wedged in Lance's clenched teeth. Her eyes were apologetic as she held her own canteen out for him to drink from.

"Alright, let's let that sit for a bit to let the herbs work, and then we'll wash the cut with some hot water and see about healing it with some magic," Anna announced as she held the canteen steady.

"I hate traditional medicine," Lance muttered when he was finished drinking. "It always hurts, and it always involves nasty smelling medicine. What the hell is this paste anyway?"

"Willow bark and yarrow," Anna replied promptly with an eye roll at his acerbic attitude. "Both are good antiseptics and antipyretics. They should help take care of the infection you've got going."

Erick titled his head in wonder, having never known plants found in the woods could have such useful properties. "That's pretty cool. But why do we need hot water to wash the wound? Wouldn't cold water work?"

Lance was the one to reply. "Boiling water kills off the germs. It's much more sanitary to use for cleaning, and makes it much safer to drink than water straight from a stream."

"We never bothered boiling the water before drinking it..."

Anna chuckled with a shake of her head. "You should have, but Lance knows how to pick relatively clean water. Still, for something like an open wound, boiled water is much safer. Now then, I think it's been long enough. Let's wash the paste out and seal that mess up. You'll probably be ready to move day after tomorrow."

Lance frowned with a glance at Erick. "We need to be gone before then. Morning at the latest."

"You can't walk, Lance, and we only have two horses," Anna refuted firmly. "Two adults and one teenager will wear out two horses in no time. Besides, you'll recover faster if you're resting."

"They're hunting him," Lance countered fiercely. "They'll kill him."

"I know that. They have posters with his face on them in every town, but the fact is that they're hunting all of us, and they'll try to kill all of us. You're no use to Erick, yourself, or anyone else half dead on your back from infection. You won't live if I'm not with you, and since I'm not moving, you're stuck here."

"Anna, quit being ridiculous. We need to move."

"No, _you_ quit being ridiculous."

Both Lance and Anna started and looked around at Erick's words to find him glaring at Lance with suspiciously shiny eyes. His hands were balled into fists, and he shrank a little in place at the sudden intense attention he was now under, but he refused to back down.

"We should have rested when you first got the wound, and you should have drunk the damn healing potion while it would have had an effect," the boy went on in a low tone. His eyes narrowed slightly at Lance. "Never mind enemy attacks, what do you think would have happened to me if you'd died of infection in your sleep? I don't know where we are, I don't know how to find food or hunt; I didn't even know I'm wanted dead or alive, so I would have been caught the moment I went into town and someone recognized me."

Lance cast a brief look at Anna, only to find her arching an unsympathetic eyebrow. "But I'm not dead," he pointed out lamely.

"Only because I made a rash decision to go into town and happened to find Anna," Erick growled, rubbing his arm across his eyes. He crossed his arms with a clear face and firmly said, "You owe me twice over: once for the hunter, and once for bringing Anna here. We're just as safe here as anywhere else, so I say we stay here until you can actually travel. You'll listen to what Anna says to do, because she clearly knows how to take care of you better than you do. And next time, you'll drink the damn healing potion. A potion can be replaced, but your life can't."

Anna turned her head to hide her smile as Lance was talked down to and chastened by someone barely up to his chest and half as old. The boy had accurately summed up most of her planned lecture, and pinned Lance in place with logic so good the gunner couldn't really argue with it. Even as he talked, she saw the subtle signs of Lance giving in: the slight relaxation on his shoulders, the exasperated eye-roll, and the general lowering of his guard.

"Will there be anything else, brat?" Lance drawled sarcastically.

"If I think of something, I'll let you know," Erick sniffed as he turned to the fire with a stick to carefully nudge his canteen out for Anna to use to wash Lance's wound. "What else do you need besides the water?"

"A bowl or a pot, and a piece of cloth," Anna replied calmly. Once she had the items, she gestured to the horses. "Why don't you go picket those two, rub them down, and loosen their saddles?"

Erick nodded, and moved to gather up the dangling reins. "I'll see if I can find the others, too."

"Not alone you won't," Lance growled. "It'll be getting dark soon, and you don't know how to track. The horses will be fine for the night." He admitted to being a little peeved when Erick looked to Anna for confirmation.

"He's right. Frankly, it's a miracle you made it out of the forest and back in one day. I'll look for the horses later, but for now you should stick around here," Anna agreed with a faint smile at Lance's quiet snort. As soon as the boy was out of earshot, she shot her friend a grin. "Lance the world conquerer, conquered by a teenager."

"Shut up."

Anna's grin widened even as she wet her cloth in the hot water and began carefully wiping Lance's wound clean. "He's a smart kid. Acts a lot like you."

"Is that who he acts like? He drives me up the wall half the time, the sarcastic, know-it-all, little shit," Lance snorted, though with a fond look in his eyes. He winced slightly as the rough cloth scraped the raw skin. "Was he in trouble when you found him?"

"Apart from being on his own in a strange country with the survival skills of a child?" Anna asked blandly. At Lance's agreeing noise, she snorted. "No one was hounding him. He had his hood up, and the only reason I stopped him was because of your badge. He has the navigational abilities of a halfwit, though. He can't even track time passing. Why the hell didn't you teach him even that most basic skill? If he hadn't ridden pellmell though the forest on a full grown horse and broken down a new path, it would have taken hours longer to find you."

Lance winced for a reason unrelated to the cleaning. "I, ah, didn't really consider the possibility of him traveling alone." At Anna's unamused look, he added defensively, "Hey, I normally wouldn't be stopped by one wound! Besides, he has a map and knows his cardinal directions, and like you said, he's a smart kid."

"A smart kid who would be dead of dehydration and exposure in less than a week on his own, if the hunters didn't find him first," Anna dryly stated. She set the stained cloth over the lip of the pot Erick had gotten for her and eyed the swollen wound. "Alright, let's try healing this now that the infection is a little more under control."

With a long exhale of relief, Lance shut his eyes as the familiar sensation of healing magic swept through him. Anna wasn't as talented as Natalie, but she was easily skilled enough to purge the remaining infection in his blood as well as to seal the wound to the point that it was just a scar. The abrupt clarity of his vision was a little disorienting, as was the sudden loss of heat. Unfortunately, now all he could focus on was a bone-deep weariness that he doubted came solely from having been ill.

With a silent, self-deprecating huff, he realized he'd been spoiled by having a team. Wounds could be ignored, sleep could be had, and burdens could be shared, if he was with his team. He hadn't been able to just relax since splitting from the others, and while Erick had provided company and some aid, the boy simply wasn't as capable as his friends. Although, he had to admit that Erick was right and he owed the boy his life twice over.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _This is a fun one to work on. And Lance clearly should never be given a kid to watch. He'll do a good job of keeping a kid alive and healthy, but he obviously sees Erick as a little adult. And he's slowly budding a mini Lance, complete with snark, sarcasm, and attitude. Which is a terrifying thought, if you think about it. As for the horse knowledge, my current thoughts are that either one of the other team members (likely Anna) shared knowledge about animals, or the people they're working with in Winterstone taught them. Clearly, his knowledge is limited, though: Tack shouldn't be left out in the rain, and you shouldn't lead more than one horse at once._

 _Anyway, leave me a review, and whether you all are interested in seeing more from either this story, or other incomplete works. I have everything from immortal seraphs, to werewolves, to pirates, to demons, to dragon riding, to animal spirit bonds, to modern-day stuff, to elves, to necromancy, etc. What can I say? I may have issues. XD_

 _ **Little Follower (Guest):** Thanks for pointing out that typo! I hope I can count on you to find more in the new section :P As for my mental health, I'm doing better over all, but still pretty down. The therapy is helping, and I've been steadily cutting back on the things that stress me out. It also really helps to hear encouraging words of support from you and my other fans, so thank you very much! :3_


	3. Child (Rated T)

_**A/N:** And here I am with another story-in-the-works. I wrote this one _ ages _ago, like back before I finished_ An Epic Retelling _, though I've added to it later than that_ _. It's another one of those FanFiction_ _clichés that, after writing a few, can totally see why people write them over and over. XD_ _ _ _This is another long one, so brace yourselves.___ _ _I'll respond to Guest reviewers in the second A/N from now on, by the way._ Anyway, enjoy! _

**_Title:_** _Child_ (Tentatively)  
 _ **Rating** **:**_ _Probably T  
 **Warnings:** Mentions of child abuse, mild language_

* * *

"Don't touch it, Matt," Natalie called.

Matt shot a grin back over his shoulder, "It's not like it'll blow up, right? The worst that could happen is that I get a nasty shock." He ignored the huff Natalie gave and bent to scoop up the large crystal.

Lance rolled his eyes as he watched Matt casually grab an obviously magical object. He shook his head and turned to go loot the dragon when a flash of light happened. The gunner whipped back around and squinted through the bright white light engulfing Matt. The flash vanished as quickly as it had appeared and Lance rubbed his eyes to rid them of the water of reflexive tears. His eye readjusted to the dark to see a pile of clothes where Matt had been.

"Great, he managed to port himself to gods know where, and he'll be naked," Lance muttered.

Natalie growled, "I told him not to touch it. Why doesn't he ever listen to me?"

Anna grinned, "Well, it wouldn't be Matt if he exercised common sense, right?"

Lance snorted and walked over to Matt's discarded clothes and weapon, "True, but that doesn't mean we can't be mad. Let's go find the numbskull."

When he bent down to scoop up the clothing, however, it rustled. Lance jumped back and stared as a small blond head poked up out of the shirt. The small head twisted to look up, revealing blue eyes set in a face that seemed too small for them. Instantly, the eyes widened and the head burrowed back into the clothing, and the pile shivered. Lance knelt down and slowly reached forwards to uncovered what he feared was true.

Natalie and Anna had not seen what Lance had as the gunner had been in the way, but they both heard him suck in a sharp breath and mutter, "No, way…"

The two women crowded forwards and stared down at the pile of clothes as Lance tugged at it. Their eyes widened in shock as Lance uncovered Matt turned into a child. Each of them stared at the small blond who stared back at them with fearful eyes. A second later, and Matt hid back in his clothes with a whimper. Lance exchanged a baffled look with Anna. Neither of them had ever seen a spell that could literally turn a grown warrior into a quaking child.

Natalie heard Matt's whimper and her eyes narrowed as the brief image she'd caught of him settled in her mind. Cautiously, the mage reached forwards and felt around for Matt's waist. Finding it, she tugged him up and into her lap along with his now-oversized blue shirt. She felt him trembling, yet he made little noise. With one arm holding him there, Natalie tugged the neckline of the shirt to fall off of Matt's face. The shirt slipped off of his right shoulder, but his wide-eyed and fearful face was bared.

The small blond was far thinner than was normal and healthy for a child that she guessed to be maybe six at the oldest. His eyes held a persisting light of fear that was unnatural in child. His hair was shorter than before and was tangled and filthy. He trembled constantly and every little while he let out a scared whimper. Most concerning of all were the bruises marring his left cheek and right shoulder.

Natalie's own eyes widened again, and she murmured, "Child abuse."

Lance stiffened, "What? How?"

"Look at him," Natalie said quietly. "What child ends up like this if they're being cared for properly? I don't know anything of his childhood, so I can't be sure if this is actually what he was like back then, but what's in front of us now clearly looks like a child abuse case."

Anna knelt down beside the mage and reached out a hand to lightly brush her fingers over Matt's bruised face. To her horror, the blond flinched back with a squeak and squeezed his eyes shut. Anna swallowed and asked in a hard voice, "Do you think this is actually him from way back when?"

Lance growled, "I sure hope not, or there's going to be a bloody murder."

Matt began to cry at the angry tones. Natalie made a soft hushing noise and rubbed a hand over his tiny back. "Hey, hey… It's okay, you're safe. I promise they aren't mad at you, so don't cry," she murmured. She watched Matt slowly stop crying and her heart cracked at the hesitant expression on his face. If this really was an image from his past, it was tragic, and she wanted to make it better.

Slowly, Natalie wrapped her arms around Matt in a hug and rocked him. She felt Matt stiffen some, but he quickly relaxed and let out a soft coo. The mage's heart melted, but she also felt a burning wrath. She looked up at the others who looked as horrified as she felt. Lance still looked ready to exact bloody retribution, while Anna looked to be puzzling out what they should do next and coming to no conclusions.

Natalie glanced down at Matt as he shuffled some to get more comfortable. She blew out a long sigh and said, "Well, we can't stay here. Whether this is permanent or not, he's a kid now, and there are a lot of monsters here; it's too dangerous to stay."

Anna nodded, "Yeah, let's take him back to the travel house for now. We can get some food in him and you can heal those bruises."

Lance nodded as well, "I'll take point. Natalie, you carry Matt. Anna, stick close to them and carry Natz's staff." He gathered up Matt's gear aside from the now-oversized shirt the child was wearing and stuffed them away in his Adventure Pouch.

Matt's head came up at the sound of his name. He cocked his head at Lance, clearly wondering what the man wanted. The gunner cracked a faint grin at the blond and stood up straight. The blond gave him a faint but hesitant smile in return. The small smile faded into a look of fear as he felt Natalie loosen her hold on him. The mage felt him stiffen and shushed him again as she sat him down on the floor and stood up.

A second later, and she reached down to lift him up into her arms. She had no problem lifting and carrying him, as he was so light. She propped him on her hip and turned to Anna, who grabbed her discarded staff from the ground. Matt's small face pressed into Natalie's shoulder and he sniffled. Natalie made a soft humming sound and felt him relax a little. She followed behind Lance as the gunner headed out of the cave.

As they walked, Matt slowly relaxed even more. He didn't know these people, but they were nice. He hoped they would stay nice. Eventually, the child picked his head up to look around. His large blue eyes stared at the green-haired lady walking just behind him and the nice lady who carried him. The lady smiled at him and puffed her cheeks out at the same time she crossed her eyes. Matt let out a small giggle and saw the lady grin at him. He then turned his eyes to the area around them.

Lance glanced back at Matt's laugh and saw Anna grinning. The ranger winked at him and then turned her attention back to their surroundings. The gunner watched Matt looking around with fascination and curiosity, his blue eyes wide as he took in everything. Lance blew out a sigh of relief. If Matt was taking an interest in their surroundings already it meant he trusted them and likely wasn't too emotionally damaged. He had no idea what to do with the blond, however, and really hoped this wasn't a permanent change.

Natalie heard Matt's giggle and grinned at the sweet sound. She felt him twisting around, trying to see everything at once. She wondered how they were going to get him back to normal, and whether this baffling regression would affect him once they figured out how to revert it. She hoped not, but it was hard to say. She'd never heard of a spell that could do this, and figured they would have to do some research. Until then, Matt was their charge.

"What's that?" Matt suddenly squeaked, speaking for the first time since the change. He struggled to get his arms free, and one arm poked out of the neckline while the other fit through an oversized sleeve so that the shirt now sat on him like a toga. He pointed to a twisting tree.

Natalie glanced at the tree and said, "It's a tree."

"Why's it all twisty?"

Anna chuckled and said, "Because it grows that way."

"Why?"

Natalie snorted at the typical child question and said, "That's just what it does."

"Oh, okay," Matt said, already losing interest in the tree as they walked past it. "What's that?" he asked pointing at a Black Bird sitting on a rock in front of them.

Lance chuckled, "That would be a Black Bird. It's mean."

Matt frowned, "It's mean? Why?"

"Dunno. Maybe it's hungry," Lance said, giving the monster a wide berth. He figured fighting was best avoided while Matt was stuck as a child. To his relief, the bird ignored them. They were nearing their residence for the time being and he heard ask Matt what the small house was. "That's where we're going," he replied.

"It's huge! Do you live here?" Matt squeaked in awe.

Lance nodded, "For now, yeah."

Natalie shot Matt a puzzled look and then turned her attention to the house. The traveler's lodge was only a few rooms large, and definitely not what she would call a huge house. She supposed that to a small child it likely looked bigger than it was. Lance opened the door and stepped inside followed by Natalie and Matt, and finally Anna, who shut the door again. Lance flicked on the lights and shrugged his rifle to the floor. Natalie walked past him to the bench by the door.

"Okay, Matt, let's take a look at those bruises," Natalie said as she tried to set him down.

Matt let go easily enough and cocked his head, "How d'you know my name?"

Natalie paused at the question, unsure of how to answer that. Finally she shrugged, "We're friends."

"I don't have any friends," Matt said with a confused look.

Anna felt a twinge of pain at the words. She shook it off and said, "Well you do now. What would you like to eat?"

Matt's eyes widened, "I get food, too?!"

Lance's face twitched as he worked to suppress a scowl at the innocent, but heartbreaking question. He blew out a sigh and nodded, "Whatever you want that we have."

Natalie glanced at Anna, "I doubt he has a large variety of foods he knows. Make him some bacon, or something. That should make him happy. Maybe get some milk out, too." She turned her eyes to Lance, "He's going to need some clothes. Head out to the warp point and pick up a few shirts and pants for him."

Anna grinned at Lance's groan and said, "I'll do that and Lance can make the food. I doubt he would be able to find stuff in the right size, anyway. I'll be back in an hour, probably." The ranger slipped out the door.

Natalie nodded as Lance headed to the small kitchen and began rummaging around. She turned her eyes to Matt who looked completely confused, but happy. Her face split in a small smile—more to keep Matt calm and happy than because she was happy—as she asked, "Now, what hurts?"

Matt frowned at the question, "Why?"

"So I can fix it," Natalie said.

"How d'you do that?" Matt asked.

Natalie grinned and leaned in to say in a conspiring whisper, "With magic." As she had expected, Matt's eyes widened with excitement. She thanked all of the countless hours she'd spent babysitting at the shrine she'd grown up at. Handling children was nothing new to her.

"You can use magic?" Matt squealed.

"Yup, so let's use the magic to get you fixed up, and then you can have some food," Natalie said with a wink.

"Best day ever!" Matt squeaked. He suddenly hesitated and said, "I can't pay you, though."

Natalie shook her head, refusing to linger on the fact that Matt already knew about having to pay for things, and expecting to pay for them himself, at such a young age. "Don't worry about it. We have plenty of money. Now what hurts?"

"My arm, and my face, and my belly, and my leg, and my back, and…" Matt listed before trailing off. He hesitated as he caught the flicker Natalie's face gave, and then shrank back. She looked angry, he thought. Angry people were mean, and it usually ended up with him getting hit. "'S okay, you don't have to use the magic," he nervously mumbled.

"Nope, you're getting healed," Natalie said firmly. Her voice softened, and she said, "I'm not mad at you, just the people who hurt you." She reached for where Anna had left her Crystal Staff. In the next moment, a soft light surrounded Matt, whose eyes widened with wonder. The light faded and Natalie asked, "Better?" She didn't doubt that he was, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

Matt poked his stomach and grinned, "Yes!" His eyes turned up to Natalie with a hopeful look, "Can you make me un-fizzable?"

"Invisible?" Natalie corrected with a grin. She shook her head, "Sorry, I don't know how to do that. Are you ready to go eat?"

Matt pouted, but soon perked up as the delicious smell of bacon filled the air. His head turned to look around for the smell. He looked up at Natalie who was grinning at him. Hesitantly, he raised his arms to be carried, doubtful that the nice lady would lift him. To his wonder, she scooped him up and propped him on her hip again, and rubbed his back as she walked.

Natalie carried Matt into the kitchen where Lance was just scooping the sizzling bacon off of a pan and onto a plate with a stack of toast. The gunner glanced around and nodded a greeting. His eyes took in Matt's healed face, and he grinned. The blond looked ridiculous in a shirt about twelve sizes too big for him, but the now-kid looked happy. Lance set the plate on the small table just as Natalie sat Matt down in a chair.

"Might want to get some cushion to sit him on," Lance commented. Matt's head barely reached over the table top.

Natalie nodded, and vanished down the hall. Matt watched her go with a light of distress in his eyes. He turned his nervous eyes on Lance who sat down across from him. The red haired man reached over and plucked up a piece of toast and handed it to the child. Matt's eyes widened, and he immediately began devouring the buttered bread. The entire time he ate, Matt's eyes remained fixed on Lance. He didn't know the man, and he had been so angry earlier; there was no promise that he wouldn't get mad again.

Lance noticed Matt's nervous stare and tried to ignore it. It was painful to realize that the bull-headed blond had ever been so fearful of other people. Yet clearly, Matt had had a rough childhood, and the only comfort was that he'd pulled through it okay. Finally, though, the gunner decided to try and make conversation, and to try and get some facts.

"So how old are you, Matt?" Lance asked in a level tone. He glanced up when Natalie walked in with some pillows to prop Matt up on.

The blond giggled as he was placed on the soft pillows and could fully see over the table. He turned his large blue eyes on Lance and said, "I think I'm five." He held up four fingers to emphasize his age. When Lance grinned, Matt quickly recounted and popped another finger up.

"That's about how old I figured he is now," Natalie commented as she sat down and piled some bacon on a plate for Matt. She grinned as Matt tentatively tasted a piece and then promptly shoved the entire chunk in his mouth. "Slower or you'll choke," Natalie warned.

Matt didn't seem to hear her as he swallowed his food and reached for another piece of bacon.

"You _think_ you're five?" Lance asked with a raised brow as he piled some more food on Matt's plate.

"That's what Tom told me," Matt said with a shrug. He grabbed a cup full of some white liquid, and began chugging it down. It was a lot better than the scummy water he was used to.

Natalie leaned forwards, "Where does Tom live?"

"A big town," was Matt's unhelpful reply.

Lance grunted, "What does the town look like, or do you know the name?"

"Graystone," Matt chirped. He spread his hands on either side of him and said, "It's bigger than this! There are lots of mines, and people are smelly!"

Lance nodded and glanced at Natalie, "Graystone exists. It's a big coal mining town south of Whitefall."

Natalie thoughtfully frowned as she swiped a piece of toast and ate it. She swallowed the food and suggested, "Should we go there and see if anyone knows Matt? Maybe we can confirm if he actually used to be like this."

Matt pouted, "I don' wanna go there…"

Lance's eyebrows shot up, "Why not? Your house is there, right?"

"Nuh-uh, I don't have a house," Matt said with a shake of his head. He ducked his head down and mumbled, "They're mean. All they let me do is dig rocks and carry heavy stuff all day. And they get so mad if I mess up. Don't make me go back…"

Natalie exchanged a worried look with Lance. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what Matt was talking about. By the look in Lance's eyes, he knew what the poor child was talking about, too. At that moment, Anna walked in the front door and appeared at the kitchen entrance. She had bags hanging from one hand that she dropped on the ground as she walked to snag some food for herself.

"What're the looks for?" the ranger asked as she sat down.

Natalie shook her head with a meaningful glance at Matt. "We'll tell you later." The mage stood up and smiled down at the blond boy, "Ready for a bath?"

Matt cocked his head, "Do you have one of those?"

"Sure do," the mage said with a grin, scooping him up again. She carefully bent to grab one of the bags Anna had brought back before walking down the hall. Her voice could be heard asking Matt how hot he liked his baths to be, and got an excited jabber of words back from the boy.

Anna watched them go before turning to Lance. "Natz is good with kids," she commented.

Lance nodded, "Yeah, good thing too, or we'd be sunk." He grinned and added, "Matt was… is… whatever… He's a cute kid; too bad about his childhood."

"Oh, did you find out something?" Anna asked.

Lance nodded with a grim look, "Yeah. He told us he's from Graystone. From what he said, Natz and I are thinking he was a coal digger. I'm guessing they beat him when he screwed up."

"At _that_ age? He can't be more than five or six," Anna said, aghast.

"He's five alright, or so he thinks," Lance confirmed with a scowl. He shook his head and muttered, "We need to fix this. On top of the fact that I can't stand to see Matt cringing every time someone frowns, we can't feasibly raise a child; especially not one who we're used to interacting with as an adult. After that, I'd like to pay Graystone a visit and do some… landscaping. Child labor, especially in mines, is sick, wrong, and dangerous."

Anna frowned and nodded, "So how do we change him back?"

Lance stood up, "We'll need that crystal he touched, to start with. It was what caused this, and I bet it'll be linked to turning him back. I'll go grab it and bring it back in a containment unit. We can take it to some scholars, or a wizard, or something."

The ranger nodded, "I doubt I need to tell you to be careful handling it. I'll tell Natz where you went. See you later."

The gunner nodded and left the room. Anna listened to him gather his gear and walk out the door. She stood as well and left to head down the hall towards where she could hear splashing. The ranger knocked on the door and heard Natalie call that it was open. She opened the door to see the mage attacking Matt's hair with shampoo. The blond had slumped against the side of the tub with an expression of bliss on his face at the soothing scrubbing.

Anna grinned at the sight and mused that it was a good thing Matt was at the age that being naked around women wasn't an issue. She figured he'd be mortified once he was back to normal, though, and that Natalie would tease him mercilessly. Natalie glanced up with a grin and jerked her head at a glass on the sink.

"Pass me that to rinse the soap out?" she requested.

Anna handed the glass over and listened to Natalie tell Matt to keep his eyes tightly shut. Soon, the soap was gone and Matt was being hoisted out of the tub and wrapped in a towel. He squirmed and giggled as Natalie rubbed him dry and then held out some clothes. Matt eagerly tugged on the pair of black shorts and the blue shirt Anna had bought him. Soon he looked like a regular child with a beaming face.

"There you go, much better," Natalie said as she rolled her sleeves down. She stood up to hang the towels to dry.

Matt smiled up at her and hugged her leg, "Thank you miss."

"You're welcome Matt," Natalie replied with a smile.

Anna grinned at the adorable and sweet actions, "Her name is Natalie, so feel free to call her that."

"And you're Anna," Matt said slowly, brow cutely furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember what they had called each other. "And the grumpy guy is…. Lance?"

Natalie burst out in laughter, "Already nailed Lance's personality."

Annan snickered but nodded to Matt, "That's right, Matt, good job."

Matt beamed at the praise and scampered over to give her leg a hug, too. Anna ruffled his damp hair thinking Lance was right: Matt was an adorable child. She grinned as he yawned, and amended the thought: Matt was an adorable, sleepy child. She bent down to gather him up and carried him out of the bathroom.

"Time for bed, Matt," Anna said.

Matt pouted with his head on her shoulder, "But 'm not tir- _ire_ …" The protesting words were broken by a massive yawn. He blinked a few tears from his eyes as he finished, "Tired."

"Says the yawning boy," Anna teased. She laid him on the bed in the room he and Lance had been sharing bed, and tucked him in. She'd barely stood up to go when Matt sat up.

"Don't go!" he whimpered.

Anna froze with her hand on the door knob and glanced back at him. Her heart clenched when he fixed her with an incredibly effective kicked-puppy look. He looked afraid of being alone, and Anna let her hand drop from the doorknob. She moved back to sit on the bed with Matt and gently pushed him to lie back down.

"I'll stay until you're asleep, and I promise we'll all still be here in the morning," she said gently.

Matt looked uncertain. He'd been in the mines the night before and now he was somewhere far away with people who cared about him. He didn't want to go to sleep and then wake up back in the mines where people yelled at him for being slow. He kept his wide eyes fixed on Anna, barely blinking, afraid she and the warmth and safety he felt would vanish if he let her out of his sight. Suddenly, Anna started humming a soft, slow tune, and Matt felt his eyelids droop, despite his best efforts to keep them open. A few seconds later, and he fell asleep.

Anna smiled at the sleeping blond. She'd hummed a common lullaby from Greenwood, and it had worked like a charm. She tucked the blanket more firmly about Matt and stood up. Silently, she padded out of the room, and left the door open a crack to allow some light in. She headed down to the small sitting area by the front door to see Natalie waiting for her.

"Where'd Lance go?" Natalie asked.

Anna sat down on a wooden chair and said, "He went back to get the crystal Matt touched. The plan right now is to bring it to a scholar and see if it can be used to reverse the effect it had on Matt."

Natalie nodded, "Good plan. Hopefully Lance won't get zapped to five years old, too. I doubt he'd be as sweet as Matt is."

"Probably not," Anna agreed with a grin. Her smile faded as she glanced down the hall to where Matt was sleeping, "So Matt was a miner as a kid, huh?"

Natalie nodded, "It's likely, yes. He probably didn't stay there for long, though, or we would never have met him. I'm guessing that either he ran away, or someone let him go. He mentioned someone named Tom and didn't seem upset with him. Maybe we can find this Tom and get some answers, or wait until Matt is back to normal."

Lance opened the door and walked in with a metal cylinder in his hands. He glanced around for Matt, and nodded when Anna said he was sleeping. "Okay, I got the crystal," Lance said, setting the metal cylinder down on the bench. "It's practically humming with mana, now. I think that it's Matt's mana."

Natalie eyes widened, "Really? If that's the case then maybe transferring it back will fix him?"

"Can you do that?" Anna asked.

The mage nodded, "Yeah, I can. We can try it tomorrow."

"Sweet, Matt will be back to normal in no time," Lance said confidently. He stretched his arms over his head and sighed, "After that, I want to go to Graystone."

Anna nodded with a scowl, "Me, too."

Natalie shrugged, "Sure, if Matt wants to. He may say to let it go, or maybe he already took care of it." She glanced down the hall and added, "Or maybe he'd rather not go back at all. I wouldn't, after growing up like that."

Lance shrugged, "I'll go either way. If nothing else, I'd like to make sure they aren't still using kids as workers." He let out a yawn and mumbled, "I'm going to sleep. Since I'm guessing Matt is sleeping in our room, I'll crash on the floor out here."

Anna smiled, "That's sweet of you. G'night, Lance."

"'Night, Lance," Natalie said as she and Anna walked off.

The next morning, Matt woke up still in the same bed he'd fallen asleep in. He sat up with a yawn and rubbed at his eyes with small hands. He looked around the room in amazement, realizing that he was still out of the mines. He thought to the three people who'd brought him here, and gave a small, confused frown. He was certain he'd never seen any of them before, and yet he also felt like he had known them for a long time. It was puzzling, and on top of that, he had no idea how he had gotten so far from the mines.

With a small shrug, Matt slid out of the bed and padded to the door. He peeked his head out to see the hallway was dark and silent. With exaggerated caution, he tiptoed down the hall to the main room, not wanting to wake the others up if they were sleeping. In the dark front hall, he turned for the kitchen, intending to get himself some water. Halfway there, he stepped on something soft—something soft that let out a high-pitched yelp and thrashed. A thump sounded from down the hall followed by muttered curses.

Matt leapt straight up in the air, and in a panicked rush, he darted for where he knew the door was. An angry grumble sounded followed by heavy running footsteps, sending his panic higher. He ripped the door open and ran outside. Once there, he picked a random direction and started running, deaf to the yells from behind him. Soon, he was out of sight in the predawn darkness.

"Damn it," Anna hissed, snagging her bow from the corner she'd left it in the corner. She tugged her boots on and dashed out the door as well.

Natalie watched her shoot off after Matt before turning irritable eyes on Lance, who was letting out small grunting noises. "Really?" she asked flatly.

"Hey, he stepped on my soft spot," Lance grumbled, a faint whine in his tone, and wincing as he sat up. His eyes turned to the door and he added, "It's not like I wanted him to run out alone."

"Just get up," Natalie sighed. "There are some pretty strong monsters around here; Anna and Matt might get hurt."

Lance rolled to his feet and stiffly tugged his boots on before snagging his gunblade and rifle. Soon, he and Natalie were jogging out of the house after Matt and Anna.

Anna raced after Matt, stunned at the speed the small boy had. On top of being quick, he was also agile and surprisingly strong, despite his skinny frame. Every time she got close to him, he'd switch directions, haul himself up a stony ledge, and keep running. Anna panted as she chased after the terrified child. Matt skidded around a corner and let out a yelp that was drowned out by an angry screech. Anna pushed herself even faster.

The ranger dashed around the corner to see Matt being cornered by a Red Dragon. In a flash, Anna nocked three arrows and sent them off towards the dragon. As she had hoped, the monster whirled on her with a snarl, and lunged forwards. Anna danced back to dodged the snap and stabbed an arrow into the scaly snout. The dragon roared in pain, scaring Matt into running again. Anna let out a cry as he darted off, but she was forced to backflip out of the way of a blast of fire instead of darting after the boy to stop him.

"Matt, stop!" Anna yelled. There was a sheer drop off into a river in that direction.

To her horror, Anna heard Matt give a shriek that faded to silence. With her heart racing, Anna channeled her mana into a Gaia Power attack. The magical vines burst from the ground, strangling and poisoning the dragon. The ranger didn't look at her victory, already scrambling after Matt. She heard Natalie and Lance call her name, but ignored them in favor of seeking out the small blond head she knew would be twisting in the river.

Natalie and Lance burst into sight in time to see Anna throw her bow down, kick her boots off, and dive off of the cliff. Both their jaws dropped as the realized what must have happened. Without stopping, they turned to follow the river. As they ran, they saw a glimpse of Anna knifing through the river, using the current to go faster. They traced her path to see Matt flailing in the water ahead of the ranger. Both were on a swift course for a waterfall.

Anna could hear the roar of the falls as she struggled towards Matt, even over the roar of the rapids around her. She needed to reach him before he went over. Her heart skipped a beat when he suddenly went under just before she could grab him. Anna dove under and squinted through the water, searching for his bright blond hair. She saw a flash of gold and snatched it up—ignoring the sympathy wince her own hair gave at the thought of being dragged by it. To her relief, it was Matt and she immediately pushed off of the river bottom for the surface, dragging Matt with her where she shifted her grasp to under his arms.

Lance saw Matt go under and Anna dive after him. The pair stayed out of sight for a very long time, and just as he was about to really panic, Anna's head suddenly broke the surface of the river. He saw her suck in great gulps of air that he couldn't hear as she pulled Matt's head up as well. The small blond was ominously still, and the gunner's eyes widened.

Natalie's breath rasped in her chest as she raced along the bank. She saw that Matt wasn't moving, but her eyes drifted to the drop off just in front of the pair in the river. Whether or not Matt had drowned wouldn't matter if they went over. She saw Anna begin swimming for the shore, pulling Matt along with her, but knew with a dismal certainty that the ranger would never be able to grip the slick stone along the side of the river.

"Natz… freeze…. the water," Lance panted.

The mage raised her staff and pointed at the river, but mentally wailed when she realized it was flowing far too fast for her to stop. "I… can't… Too… fast…"

Meanwhile, Anna hit the side of the river. She reached a hand out and tried to stop her and Matt's journey off the falls. She frantically scrabbled for purchase, but the stone was smooth from the water, and slick from algae and spray. She glanced towards where the head of the waterfall was rapidly drawing closer. Her eyes set with determination, and she wrapped both arms around Matt.

Then, Anna's stomach dropped as they were sent over the edge into open air. They plummeted through the air, careening towards the basin far below. The ranger was above Matt, but a quick gust spell fixed that. She used the wind magic to twist them around so that she was on the bottom to absorb the impact with the water when they hit. She kept using wind magic in a desperate attempt to slow their fall, ignoring the drain on her already low mana stores from her earlier Gaia Power.

The ranger's back slammed into the water and forced her air from her lungs. She fought against the instinct to inhale water, and began kicking for the surface with Matt still tightly grasped in her arms. Her head broke the water and she sucked in massive gulps of air as she pulled Matt's limp form up. She wearily paddled through the water for the muddy bank and dragged them up onto it.

Every muscle in her body trembled and ached. There was an immense pain flaring from her back, her chest heaved and jerked as she coughed to expel water from her lungs, and her clothing and hair were soaked and dripping. Still, she turned her attention to Matt. She hauled him up against her chest and sharply pressed her fists chest to just below his sternum to force the water from his lungs. As soon as she felt the water dribble out, she held her hand against his chest and cast a healing spell.

Instantly, Matt jerked and began coughing and gasping. Anna felt a heady rush of relief as she soothingly rubbed his back. Matt was alive; they both were. Slowly, the small boy's wracking coughs subsided and he twisted to look back at who had saved him. Anna smiled down at him with her hair and clothes dripping water. In the next moment, the ranger swayed and passed out.

"Anna?" Matt fearfully squeaked. He shook her shoulder, but got no reply. The boy's eyes filled with tears as he whimpered, "Anna…? Say something."

Anna remained still and silent. Matt curled up beside the ranger and cried. He shivered from cold and fear, and pressed closer to Anna. If he was cold, then she was probably cold too, and maybe also afraid. He sniffled and vowed to stay right there until Anna woke up.

Lance and Natalie yelled as they saw their friends get dragged over the waterfall. Both skidded to a stop and stared in horrified disbelief at the river. Then, Lance shook his head and started running again. He decided he would operate on the off chance that one—or, hopefully, both—of them would survive the fall. Anna was resourceful and would have done whatever she could to save them, after all. He slipped to a stop at the edge of the cliff and peered down at the basin far below.

Natalie came up beside him, heart in her throat. Her eyes frantically searched for some sign of her friends. Then, amazingly, she saw a faint splash as Anna surfaced and began swimming for shore. Miraculously, the ranger had survived the fall, and was well enough to move. The mage straightened and exchanged a relieved look with Lance before turning for the path down the cliff.

Both swiftly trekked through the trees in silence. Before long, they hit the bottom of the cliff and heard Matt crying. Their eyes widened and they picked their pace up to a sprint again. They burst out of the trees to see Matt curled up beside Anna in the mud. The ranger's face was pale, and her legs still trailed in the water, but both could see her chest rising and falling. Natalie let out a laugh of relief and darted forwards.

Matt jerked up at the sound and shrank back as Natalie skidded to a stop in the mud. For the moment, the mage ignored him. A glow surrounded Anna, and Natalie's face twitched in a frown. She could sense that a bone in Anna's spine had fractured. It was a miracle that she'd been able to get herself and Matt to shore, and not been paralyzed. The mage carefully focused her mana into the fracture and felt the wound heal.

Anna's face twitched and her eyes flickered open to see Natalie's face. Lance's face appeared in her vision next, shadowed with worry. The ranger turned her head to the side to see Matt watching her with wide, tearful eyes. The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. She felt Natalie's healing magic rush through her, alleviating the pain. It finally faded and Lance held a hand out to haul her up.

"And that, lady and gents, was my heroic stunt for the year," Anna sighed as she staggered to her feet.

Lance clapped her shoulder, "Good work, Anna. I don't know how you survived that fall, but you did."

"I used some Gust spells to slow us down," Anna said dismissively. She turned her eyes to Matt and asked, "Are you okay, Matt?"

The boy sniffled and nodded. He shuffled guiltily and mumbled, "I'm sorry…"

Natalie frowned at him, "Don't ever run off again. You were lucky this time, but you need to be more careful."

Matt's eyes filled with tears again, "I'm sorry…"

Lance shook his head and muttered, "Gods, even when he's barely three feet tall, he's getting into stupid situations."

"I-I'm s-sorry," Matt whimpered. He could sense the blow coming, and knew he deserved it. He flinched back and raised his arms to cover his head when Lance stepped forwards. He tensed in preparation of the hit, and was confused when all he felt was a hand land on his head to ruffle his wet and muddy hair. He peered up between his arms to see Lance standing over him.

"It's okay, just don't do it again, alright?" Lance said softly. The gunner was disgusted by the fact that Matt was clearly expecting to be struck. He turned his eyes to Anna and Natalie and said, "Let's get him back to the hut. Will you be okay barefoot, Anna?"

The ranger started and glanced down at her bare feet. She nodded, "Yeah, I run around barefoot all the time. I'll be fine, but we'll need to go grab my bow."

Natalie nodded and held a hand out for Matt to take, "Come on, Matt; let's go get you back to normal."

Matt tucked his tiny hand into hers and asked, "Normal?"

"Yup. You're a little smaller than we're used to right now," Natalie said with a grin.

"I am?" Matt asked in confusion as he trotted alongside the mage.

Anna gave a tired chuckle, "Don't think about it too much."

"Okay," Matt agreed with a shrug. He twisted his head to look up at Anna and said, "Thank you for saving me, Anna."

The ranger waved a hand dismissively, "It's what I do." She smiled when Matt looked confused and explained, "It just means I'm happy to help."

"Oh, I thought maybe your job was to jump in rivers," Matt squeaked with a grin. "My job is to carry things! But I want to be a big, strong knight! Then, I can slay evil dragons like that one earlier without worrying that they'll eat me!"

Natalie chuckled, "Well, I think you're closer to your goal than you realize."

"You think?" Matt excitedly asked, his eyes shining with hope and delight.

Anna suddenly sighed and asked, "Hey, Lance? Lend me a shoulder. I'm exhausted." She let out another sigh, this time of relief when Lance wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders and tucked his own arm around her waist to support her. "Thanks."

"No problem," Lance said as he felt her muscles tremble. He glanced at her with concern, but knew there wasn't much to be done for her other than get her back to rest.

The hike back to the hut took far longer than the race after Matt. And they were lucky that they didn't encounter any more monsters. Before long, the tired and muddy party was stepping back into the traveler's house. Anna slumped down on the bench and let out a long and tired sigh. She glanced up when Lance tapped her shoulder and waved her to the shower first.

"Nah, Matt and Natz can go first," Anna said. She gestured to the small boy and added, "We don't want him getting sick, after all. Just be fast, okay?"

Natalie nodded, "Okay. Come on, Matt." She and Matt set off down the hall.

Lance wandered into the kitchen and came back with a cup of tea, already heated with magic. He handed it to Anna who accepted it gratefully. The ranger gulped the warm liquid down, and then stood up. She glanced at the door, thinking about her abandoned bow, and then shrugged. The weapon wasn't likely to go anywhere, and could be picked up later. She turned around again when Matt came out of the bathroom, clean, and wearing the oversized blue shirt again with a confused look.

"Natalie says you can go in now," the boy announced.

Lance grinned and started walking for the door, but was cut off by Anna who shot him an amused warning look as she slipped inside the bathroom. The gunner chuckled and then turned to Matt, who was staring at the large rifle on the ground with fascination. Lance stepped forwards and scooped the weapon up just as the blond reached for it.

"Don't mess with my gun. It's dangerous," Lance said lightly.

Matt nodded, "Okay." He settled down on the floor with his back against the wall and started humming to himself, twiddling his thumbs.

Lance watched the blond in silence for several minutes. He wondered if turning him back would be challenging, but had complete confidence that Natalie would manage it. His attention was diverted by the girls stepping out of the shower with clean clothes, hair, and skin. Both waved him in, and before long, the whole party was clean and gathered in the small space by the front door, their clothes hanging on various surfaces to dry.

Natalie clapped her hands, "Okay, let's get started. Matt, I need you to sit over on that stool. Lance, bring out the stupid rock and set it between me and Matt. Anna, snag a blanket to put on Matt."

Both males did as she asked as Anna scampered off to get a sheet from one of the bedrooms. The ranger came back and loosely tucked it around Matt, then stepped back to sit on a chair. The mage took a deep breath and shut her eyes. Matt watched with wide-eyed fascination as light swirled around Natalie. He flinched when a bolt of energy jumped to the rock, and then to him. Instantly, he felt a strange vibration in his very bones. There was a flash of light, and when it cleared, the blond was back to normal.

"Sweet," Lance sighed. He then marched forwards, and whacked Matt upside the head, "Gods, maybe _this_ whole fiasco will teach you not to touch obviously magical objects all willy-nilly."

"How was I supposed to know it would make me five again?" Matt grumbled. He stood up, careful to keep the blanket wrapped around him. He ducked down the hall and came out of the rooms wearing a pair of long black pants.

Natalie heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank the gods you're back."

Matt grinned, "And thanks to you all for looking out for me. I'm a little ashamed that I ran from a monster, though."

"To be fair, the monster was a little out of your league at the time," Anna snorted, and let out a yawn. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sleep the day away. See you all later." The ranger slipped off down the hall and shut the door to the girls' room.

Matt looked after her before turning to Lance and Natalie. He blew out a sigh and said, "So who's gonna ask?"

Lance arched a brow. "You could just tell us."

"Fine," Matt said with a shrug. "I was an orphan and a worker in Graystone from age four to twelve. My job was to carry tools and food to the workers, and, when I was older, help dig up coal and scout new potential shafts. When I was twelve and a half, I ran away to become an adventurer. An older worker named Tom helped me get loose, and gave me some pocket cash to get started."

Natalie frowned, "And I was kind of hoping that maybe you hadn't been stuck in the mines as a child."

"Eh, digging was good for building muscle tone," Matt said with a shrug.

Lance scowled, and sarcastically asked, "And the beatings were good for building pain tolerance?"

Matt shrugged again, "It's callous to say, but yeah, they were. I got too quick and strong for them to continue it after a while, though."

"That does it, I'm detonating the mines at Graystone," Lance hissed.

"And sentence households around the continent to a bitterly cold winter? I don't think so," Matt said in a sharp tone. "Besides, I've already, ah… _convinced_ … them to not force children or others to work in the mines. The new management is quite nice, actually, and definitely in no rush to end up as beaten as the last bunch."

Natalie blew out a sigh, "Well that's good at least. How are you feeling? Are there any lingering effects from your return to being a kid?"

"Well, some of my memories from that point in time are overlapped now, but other than that, I feel fine," Matt said with a grin. "You made an awesome caretaker, by the way. All of you did."

"Except for the scaring you to run out on your own and off a cliff part, yeah," Lance muttered.

Matt chuckled and agreed, "Except for that. But to be fair, I should have looked where I was walking." He shot a glance at Natalie and asked, "How's Anna doing? I'm guessing she took the hit from the waterfall."

Natalie waved a hand, "She's fine now. She had a fractured spinal plate, but I fixed it. We're really lucky that she was the one who dove after you and not one of us. She's the best with wind magic and creative uses for her magic in general."

Lance still looked furious, but he said, "Let's take the rest of the day off. I'm pretty tired, too."

The other two nodded. Natalie headed into the room with Anna while Matt and Lance headed for their room. The two men flopped on the large bed, and let out matching sighs. Lance looked over at Matt, once again feeling a relieved rush at his return to normal. Matt stared up at the ceiling with distant eyes, unaware of the stare from his right. The gunner wondered what he was thinking about, or whether something was wrong.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, Matt?" Lance finally asked after a few minutes.

Matt started and looked over. His face split in a grin and he nodded, "Yeah, just trying to sort my memories out. It was only a couple of days, but it's… weird to realize that I have two sets of them. It's like watching two completely different movies layered overtop each other."

Lance frowned, "That is weird."

"Yeah, but kind of nice, too," Matt said with a smile. "My childhood obviously sucked, and I normally just don't think about it."

"Like everything else?" Lance couldn't help but say. He smirked when Matt gave a snort.

"Har, har," Matt grumbled. He shook his head and went on, "Five was an incredibly bad time for me. My mother just dumped me at the mines for no clear reason. Most of the miners were nice to me, but the management wasn't. It's… nice to be able to look back, in a way, and have a warm memory there alongside the bad."

Lance scowled, "You're _mother_ ditched you there on purpose? Why the hell would she do that?"

Matt shrugged, "I didn't find out until a lot later, but I'm a bastard child—the result of a night of too much alcohol. She didn't want me, so she got rid of me." He snorted bitterly and added, "She even got a fair amount of gold out of it, too. A real win-win: she got rid of her mistake and received a bunch of gold, and the mines got a new worker."

Lance felt as though he'd been punched. That piece of information explained something about Matt that had always been a puzzle to Lance. The swordsman was so nice to almost everyone, even people who'd tried to kill him. And once a person joined the team, he went out of his way to keep them safe, make sure they knew they were helpful, wanted. It had been a strange, albeit nice, thing, but the reasoning behind it was awful. Lance was willing to bet every weapon he owned that Matt struggled with abandonment issues.

"Well, whatever your bitch mother thought, I'm glad you're here," Lance said suddenly. He met Matt's surprised look and said firmly, "You're not a mistake. We all love having you here, and you're an integral part of the team."

Matt continued to stare at Lance as soft warmth blossomed in his chest, and a smile formed on his face. He nodded and said quietly, "I know that now, but it's good to hear. Thank you."

Lance grunted and rolled so his back faced Matt, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. He muttered, "Well, at the very least we don't want to lose out meatshield." He smiled as Matt let out a soft laugh, and felt as the swordsman shifted to be more comfortable.

Soon, both were fast asleep.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** If I ever get around to writing it, he'll be back to a kid by the morning, though he'll have the memories of present-day Matt. Maybe. Or maybe a mixture of the both. I'm not sure, yet. All the same, it was fun writing adorable little kid Matt. And having every one else be so protective of him._ :3 _Though, of course, Lance can't manage that for very long when Matt's normal. It was also fun being a rotten human being to him. 'Cuz I suck. XD_

 ** _Little Follower_** _ **(Guest):** Thank you! I've had enough of grouchy customers ruing my hours of work in mere minutes to last me a lifetime. Although, I guess that probably won't change much, no matter the job; they'll just be screwing up something other, and more expensive, than clothing piles. XD Things are going well so far, but its early, yet. I'm coming into a four-year college as a junior, which is a little nerve wracking, but the classes don't seem very tough, yet. I'm hoping it'll stay this way for a while, but we'll see. I have, I think, 175 or so documents floating around on my computer? Maybe more. I should be okay for now. You're right that I need to space them, of course. _

_As for your review on the last chapter: I try very hard to give all of my characters flaws. It is not, in my humble opinion, a very good character if they're flawless. I have varying degrees of success in that from story to story, but do pretty well over all, I think._

 _Haha, I've been getting quite a few people saying that they didn't realize fight scenes are hard for me. I suppose I'll take those remarks as compliments that I'm doing well. XD Things like a horse being startled by a gunshot add, I feel, a certain level of realism to a fic that makes for a more immersive world. I'm pretty good at that. My real trouble lies in my tendency to gloss over motions and placements in battles. :P Like this story here is an earlier work. Nowadays, I would probably dedicate an entire paragraph at least to that dragon attack: describing the monster, how it moved, sounds it made, and so on. It's not bad like it is now, but it could be better. And truer words have never been spoken for lots of combatants at once._ (-_-)

 _I kind of feel that I rushed Erick's mourning some, but it was better than I usually do. And I plan for it to crop up again, later, so I guess its fine as it is._

 _As for Matt's emotions: I'm torn about that response. I wanted a sense of detachment, like he'd been broken in some way. But maybe that was the wrong way to write it? Or maybe I should have more explicitly stated that that was what had happened? I'm not quite sure. Maybe it would have been better in that sense in first person. I might try rewriting that one some day as a first person, see how that works for me._

Escort, _and other, future stories are in this collection for a few reasons. One: I want to gauge which ones people are most interested in seeing written out, as well as what people seem to like the most in stories. Two: it gives me a reason to kick myself in the rear and finish editing them to some degree (The typos... So. Many. Typos. And I_ still _don't catch them all. Self-editing sucks.). Three is a more selfish reason: I_ want _people to see what I've written, and it helps me feel less bad about not updating anything_ because _I've been writing these other things, which I do feel guilty about. Several of these will be fleshed out into their full plots, at which point I'll probably pull them from here with a chunk as a preview and a note saying where they went, and make them their own stories. I'll definitely be adding more here as I work on more and more, and complete my other fics. Retribution is so close to done, and I'm eager to finish it. It'll be my first major story that I thought the plot up for and wrote out.  
_

 ** _Anonymous:_** _Yes, be afraid. Lance is laying little Lance spores everywhere. Like an insane mushroom. Armed with a rifle and a bad attitude. XD_

 _You'll be pleased to hear that I have a separate story in the works about an alternate future where Lance beat and killed Matt and Natalie when they fought, and took over the world, full Fascist style. The Valkyrie will play a major part in that story, as will Lance's other skills. I tend to avoid them because of the logistics of it all throws me off. Factoring in supplies required to make them, getting the supplies up to where they'd be dropped down from, creation of missiles and medicines, energy costs, structural and environmental damage from blasts, shrapnel, blast radius, radiation, time between call and impact... Yeah, it's a mess, and more of one than I like to think I can deal with for most stories. In some of my off-the-net stories, I've used teleportation as a reason, but that opens up a another messy can of worms. My favorite, more recent tentative reasoning is that he summons them, like Matt does swords (another thing I haven't given as much attention as I should). That explanation only occurred very recently to me, though, so it won't show up in any of my current stories (Barring,_ **maybe** _, later in_ A Long Road Home _. We'll see about that.). And, of course, I love me a separated and alone scenario, which would, indeed, be ruined by a tank bouncer._ X'D _But those neglected skills will show up_ a lot _in the alternate future fic, don't worry._


	4. Heiress (Rated M)

**Title:** Heiress  
 **Genre:** Friendship/Romance  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Warnings:** Sexual Themes, Language

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Natalie blew out a heavy sigh as she trudged down the long halls to her room. She felt exhausted and tense all at once, as she had ever since she'd agreed to be the Lady Regent until her brother recovered. It was lonely, boring, exhausting, and frustrating work to listen to every single self-serving complaint nobles had, every grievance a commoner brought forth, and then have to make solutions for them. And there were the daily meetings with the council, the plans that had to be made to assure stability, the meet and greets with foreign dignitaries. And she had to be perfectly poised at all times in public, dressed up and painted to look untouchable and powerful. She missed the simplicity of fighting with the team, the sense of unabashed honesty and belonging. But somebody had to rule, and she'd been the only one with a legitimate claim.

Only Matt had stayed in the area, promising to be there if she needed him. Not that she ever had, but it would have been nice to see him once or twice. But Matt had stayed away from the castle and the guards had never seen him on their patrols. She could only assume he was out in the fields surrounding the castle doing what he always did by fighting monsters for treasure. The frequent thought that he'd simply wandered off constantly plagued her. He hated staying in one place, after all, and she had the sneaking worry that he'd only offered to stay nearby out of a certain sense of obligation for her.

"Perhaps you'd like some unwinding?"

Natalie tensed before glancing over her shoulder. A single man stood there—one of the ranking guards, if she recalled correctly. She turned fully to address him, the skirt of her gown swishing around her legs. "I doubt you could offer the sort of unwinding I want," she honestly told him in a wry tone.

"There are many ways to unwind, but what did you have in mind, my lady?"

"Tracking down some smelly beast to set on fire, and then selling its skin for gold," Natalie told him with a faint grin that widened at his surprised look. "I haven't been raised like most noble women. I worked for several years as a mercenary of sorts before agreeing to help my brother, and I can't wait to get back to it. Unfortunately, that is a risk I cannot take while in charge,"

"Ah, I had no idea," the man admitted. "You conduct yourself so well I assumed you were like every other ruling house member. But as I said, there are other methods of unwinding."

"Mm, I doubt drinking my troubles away would be very much appreciated by my councilmen."

The man chuckled, "Yes, I imagine that that would cause some complaint. I was thinking something more intimate and private, however. Making love does wonders for stress, after all."

Natalie flushed as she shook her head sharply, "That is very… kind… of you to offer, but I am not seeking a lover. Good night."

And with that, the woman turned and continued on, this time flustered, exhausted, and stressed. A lover of all things. That was exactly what she did _not_ want. But even as she had the embarrassed thought, she imagined a different man with brilliant blond hair and blue eyes that sparkled with warmth and laughter offering her the same. Not that he'd ever sought that sort of thing out; or at least not from her. She often thought Anna was more likely to get with Matt than she was. The ranger had a similar personality to the swordsman, and a similar sense of mischief and excitability.

But as she slipped into her room, nodding to the guards outside her door, she couldn't help but imagine Matt in that capacity. She flushed as she imagined him kissing her, holding her, running his fingers over her skin, nibbling at her neck. And then she imagined more sensual things like how it might feel to have him touch her breasts, her core, how he would fit inside her, whether he would be put off by her virginity. Would he be as fierce a lover as he was a fighter, or would he be as sweet and gentle as he was a friend? Would he want to cuddle after the act, or would he go to sleep immediately? Would he like the act enough to want it again, to come back for more?

Natalie's cheeks were bright red by this point, and she felt way too hot. She briskly stepped to the bathroom to run a bath before bed. A soak would do wonders for her tension, after all. And as she ran the water into the tub, she wryly mused that she had even more tension, now. The guard had meant well with his offer, but she just knew she'd be thinking of Matt taking her for weeks—a pleasant enough of a distraction during boring meetings, but also an unattainable thing to want. But as she sank up to her neck in warm water and began washing her hair, she wondered if maybe the bed she slept in wouldn't feel so large and cold with a lover in it. And as she caved to touching herself, and as she curled up to sleep, she wondered if Matt would ever want her.

Days passed and Natalie handled affairs as always. Her brother had written that his recovery was going well, but that it would be some time before he could walk by himself again. He thanked her once more for being the awesome sister she was, and promised the best chocolate he could find upon his return and that they would eat cake until they barfed to celebrate her belated birthday. Natalie smiled as she thought of the sweet letter and silly antics of her brother. He'd make a great ruler when he returned, caring for everyone around him with good, relatable humor. The mention of her birthday had thrown her, though. She'd forgotten it was today, and was thankful that no one in the castle knew of it. The last thing she wanted was a party in her honor that she'd have to preside over, manage, and smile through. Plus it welcomed idiots looking for her hand in marriage, and she'd had enough of suitors asking after her.

"So, my Lady Regent, what do you think should be done?"

Natalie blinked at being addressed and rapidly pulled up what scraps she could recall of his long-winded speech. "Would it be possible to summon Lord Reil here for a mediated meeting? I would preside, of course."

To her relief, she'd recalled his complaint accurately, and he bowed. "Of course, thank you, Lady Regent."

"Now then, if that is all, I believe this meeting is adjourned?" Natalie asked expectantly, looking around the table. The men all nodded, and she slid her chair back, "Then let us be off. I have it on good account that there is an exquisite spread being prepared for lunch that will be ready in the next two hours. Do bring your ladies."

The men smiled as they stood and bowed with murmured thanks. Natalie waited for them all to leave before sighing and turning for the special door that led almost directly to her chambers. Her personal guards flanked her down the hall before standing at attention outside her door. She entered her room and shut the door before slumping against it with an exhausted sigh.

"Sounds like you're having about as much fun as I thought you would be."

Natalie leapt straight up in the air in shock, one hand over her suddenly racing heart. Her wide eyes fell on Matt sitting at the bay window, and her face split into a massive smile. "Matt!" She cried, leaping forwards to give him a hug. "I had no idea you were going to be here! How have you been? What brings you?"

Matt returned her hug tightly, lifting her off the ground a little before letting go to step back. "Like I'd miss your birthday and leave you surrounded by stuffy nobles to celebrate it," he teased lightly. "And I've been good. I took care of a bandit band that was preying on the village about a day's walk to the east of the castle."

Natalie slumped in relief, "Oh, thank the gods. I was beginning to think I'd have to go out there myself to get it done. The guard captain was spouting bullshit about it being out of his jurisdiction, and people were endlessly coming in to complain."

"So, what's your birthday feast going to be?" Matt asked, rubbing his hands together with a grin.

Natalie laughed and shoved him. "Figures you came for the food. But to be honest, I forgot my birthday was today until reading a letter from my brother, so there's no feast."

Matt's face fell, "You, what? Seriously?

"It's been so busy and mindless here," Natalie explained, her smile falling some. "I haven't really spent any time for myself beyond sleeping and bathing."

Matt sat back down, studying Natalie's face. Now that she'd mentioned it, she did look exhausted and tense. There were faint lines by her eyes, and shadows under them, though she'd hidden them pretty well with makeup. Her entire posture suddenly screamed exhaustion, and there was a tightness around her mouth that suggested she was really tense. He'd wondered if the strain of ruling would get to her, and had been to a few of her public outings to try and gauge how she was holding up. She'd looked like she'd been doing well, and the people adored her. He'd even heard a few guards in one of the local taverns saying she was a blessing to get the houses cooperating. But it looked like all that good was coming out of her own happiness.

"Can you take a few days leave?" Matt finally ventured.

Natalie shook her head, "No, I've got some ambassadors coming in over the next few days, a dinner party two nights from now, a royal inspection of the wall a week from today, a private negotiations between two houses a week after that, a-"

Matt cut her off with a wry smile, "I get it: you're busy. Did James happen to say when he'd be back?"

"Not for another couple months. He said it's been slow progress on his legs, and a ruler needs to walk to appear strong," Natalie sighed. She moved to sit beside Matt and slumped down to rub her face, uncaring of the makeup she was smudging. "I just want to go set some monsters on fire. Is that so much to ask?"

Matt smiled sympathetically as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You'll get back to it soon enough, don't worry. Do you have anything else going on today?"

"Just have to meet a group for lunch," Natalie replied as she sat up. She glanced out the window and sighed before standing, "Speaking of, I need to get ready for that. Will you be here?" Her voice had taken on a hopeful cast as she paused by the bathroom to look back at Matt.

"Of course. I'll swing by the kitchens and snag some food for myself. See you soon," Matt replied evenly.

As soon as Natalie was gone, his face fell into a frown, and he stood up to go get food. She looked and sounded miserable and like she was half a second away from telling the world to go fuck itself for a day or two. As he trekked down the hall, he wondered if there was anything he could do to distract her for a day or so. A part of him felt a little guilty for not coming by sooner. He'd considered it countless times, but hadn't wanted to pressure her into leaving or make her think he thought she needed help. But considering her expression, he wondered if maybe it would have been better to have him there more often. She was probably lonely, definitely bored and stressed, and anxious to leave.

"No, I haven't asked the Lady Regent again."

Matt blinked out of his thoughts to find himself in the kitchens. A group of guards were sitting at one long table, eating some kind of stew. He cast them a curious look, wondering what they were saying about Natalie. It wasn't anything bad, since they hadn't cared about the people coming and going. He wondered what they'd asked her as he grabbed his own stew and a chunk of freshly baked bread.

"Damn, and here I was hoping you'd have juicy details for us. She has such an awesome rack…"

Matt choked on a mouthful of stew, though his coughing went on ignored. He listened to their conversation with a certain level of anger at their derogatory remarks toward his friend.

"Yeah, I was sure she'd agree to at least one night, but she refused. Apparently isn't interested in a lover. Or she prefers the company of women. Who knows."

"Or dogs," a different man snickered. "Did you see her face when that mutt ran up to her? She kissed the dumb thing! Maybe that's how we can get into her bed—just bring a dog along."

Matt slammed his spoon down, cutting off the round of laughs, and stood up to glare at them. "Natalie just knows better than to get involved with pigs like you. One more disrespectful word out of any of your mouths and you'll be shitting your teeth out for weeks."

Dead silence fell as the guards gaped at the young blond glaring at them. He was a strange face and dressed commonly, through his weapon said otherwise about his wealth. And he referred to the Regent so familiarly… Still, his threat couldn't go unpunished.

"Watch what you say, boy. We could have you hanging from the gallows with the snap of the fingers."

"Oh, fingers will be snapping alright if you think you can take me on," Matt growled. He took several paces forwards and slammed his hands down on their table to lean forwards and hiss in their faces, "Stay away from Natalie."

"Who are you and what are you doing this far into the castle?"

"I'm a friend of Natalie's, and I have her royal permission to go anywhere in the castle and on its grounds," Matt snapped.

Instantly, the guards' faces paled as they recalled the small group the Regent traveled with. They realized that the blond before them must be Matt, known kingdom over for his strength and skill, the last member of a great house of born and bred fighters of unimaginable talent. And he was also known for a vicious temper when his friends were threatened. Immediately, the men averted their eyes and mumbled promises and apologies. To their relief, he merely grunted and stood back. Then he was gone, leaving a half-eaten bowl of soup and a few crumbs of bread.

Matt stormed back up to Natalie's room and let himself in after a brief nod to the guards. He then threw himself back down in the bay seat and scowled out the window, burning with an angry, possessive disgust. He couldn't believe the guard thought they had any chance of bedding Natalie. Never mind that she was their princess, but it was pretty well known she detested being seen as an object for pleasure. To have actually approached her for sex… He snarled under his breath at the thought. And those awful comments and jokes had been way out of line.

"Hey, Matt, I'm back."

Matt started, and his anger mostly evaporated at the sound of Natalie's voice. He turned to see her standing at the door in a simple day dress with her hair braided and piled on her head. Delicate jewelry sat against her throat, on her head, and hung from her ears, sparkling in the light. Her eyes were scanning his face with a hint of concern in them, and he realized she could probably tell he was upset. Her next words only confirmed his suspicion.

"What happened?"

"Oh, a few of your guards ticked me off, is all," Matt replied as he stood up. "Did you have a good lunch?"

"Yeah, we had roast quail with seasoned bread and an awesome fruit salad. How was your lunch?"

Matt started and sheepishly rubbed his head, "Er, what I ate of it was pretty good? I forgot to finish it, though."

Natalie's eyebrows shot up, "What happened that made you of all people forget _food_?"

Matt opened his mouth to explain, but shut it again as he studied the mage before him. Instead, he asked, "Have people been pressing you to get together with them?"

Instantly, Natalie's face flushed bright red. She spluttered for a moment before coughing into her hand. "That's awfully forwards of you," she joked.

"I just want to be sure you've been safe," Matt pressed.

Her eyes softened and she nodded, "I've been fine. A few noblemen have approached me about marriage, but I've turned them down. Oh, and a guard asked if I wanted… casual sex… to unwind, but that was only once and he hasn't pressed it since I said no. What brought that worry on?"

"Your guards are about as respectful as the tavern bouncers," Matt told her in a wry voice. He explained what he'd overheard and said, and was partially amused at her expression even as he frowned from anger at the remembered remarks.

"Yeesh, I'll speak to them about that," Natalie mumbled in a mortified tone. She met Matt's eyes and added, "Thanks for standing up for my honor. The last thing I need is a rumor that I'm into bedding animals to start circulating up the grapevine."

Matt nodded. He hesitated before asking, "Have you considered a lover while you're here? The guard is right that it would help with the stress."

Natalie's flush returned and she glanced to the side with an awkward laugh. "What, are you volunteering?" she joked, before continuing more seriously, "I've thought about it, but there isn't anyone around here I could trust isn't just using the status of being my lover to further themselves. I'll be fine for a couple more months."

Matt noted that meant she had considered the option fairly thoroughly. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, she was being rational about the idea, and it was important for her to find outlets for her stress. On the other, he felt a strange disappointment that she'd been looking at men like that, and had written him off as a joke. That hurt. He wondered if she just didn't think of him like that, or if it had simply never occurred to her.

"I'd do it, if you wanted it," he murmured, glancing down at his feet.

Natalie froze at that, and gaped at him, unable to quite believe her ears. But his flush and awkward avoidance of her eyes told her she'd heard right. A part of her was flattered and pleased at his offer, the other part was mortified that he'd taken her statement seriously. Then she smiled as she realized he was offering for her, for her health and happiness. And she wanted to take him up on his offer almost more than anything she'd ever wanted in her entire life, but she wanted it to be for the right reasons. A friend with benefits relationship was not something she wanted with Matt.

"Thanks, Matt, but I really do think I'm fine," she assured him. "I really appreciate it, and I'll keep it in mind, but you don't need to do that."

Matt bit his tongue to keep from protesting that he wanted to do that. She'd made her choice, and he wouldn't press her; she had enough stress in her life without his feelings or libido making more. So instead he shrugged, "The offer stands if you change your mind. Now, then, what should we do for your birthday? Spirit you outside this stone behemoth for a few hours? Sit and chat? Take a stroll through the gardens to set off the gossip?"

Natalie snorted at the last option. Sometimes, she forgot that Matt had been born and raised into nobility, and it was little jabs that mentioned his awareness that reminded her. She cracked a grin and whispered in a conspiring tone, "Imagine the salacious rumors: the princess to the royal family, and standing Regent, seen tittering through the gardens on the arm of the sole survivor of house Roszak."

Matt chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I don't think I can imagine you tittering like the other, vapid women here. But just think of all the hopeful idiots' dreams we could crush. No more high blood marriages, no more proposals. Oh, I ache to think of the crocodile tears that would be shed."

Natalie gave a very unladylike snort at Matt's droll, dramatic tone. She'd missed having humor in her life, missed Matt's grin and sporadic bouts of surprisingly perceptive and intuitive behavior. But she pulled her thoughts back when Matt fixed her with a patient, expectant look, waiting to hear what she wanted to do for her birthday. She tilted her head in thought, before finally speaking.

"Mind being my… unofficial bodyguard into the city? I want to pay the healer's temple a visit. Then we can get some dinner."

"Oo… A date as an incognito princess with a nameless ruffian," Matt grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Whatever will they say?"

"Nameless ruffian? If anyone's going incognito, it's you, lord Roszak," Natalie shot back with a widening grin. She turned for her bathroom to dress in one of her old dresses, calling back over her shoulder, "Imagine all the swooning ladies turning into screeching banshees as they realize they will never marry into your great house."

Matt's playful groan followed her into the bathroom, and she heard him mutter to not remind him about the proposals. She swung the door mostly shut before stripping out of the extravagant gown the nobility claimed was a simple day dress, and swiftly tugged on her old Red Dress. She pulled all the pins from her hair and undid every braid before tying the orange locks, wavy from the braid, into a loose ponytail. Then she washed all the makeup from her face and when she looked in the mirror, she smiled, finally feeling like she was herself again. Well, herself plus an expensive vanilla perfume that she had to admit she adored. She replaced the gold, diamond and ruby encrusted jewelry with her old red earrings before leaving the bathroom with her black boots in hand.

"Ah, so there is a real person under all of that makeup," was the first thing out of Matt's mouth when she emerged.

"I know, weird, huh?" Natalie chuckled as she moved to sit on the plush bench at the foot of her bed to tug her boots on. She relished in the firm, supportive leather rather than the painful torture shoes they called high heels, or silk slippers—good for plush carpets and not much else. "Oh, it is so good to be back in this," she sighed as she stood up.

Matt's mouth curled into a half-smile. "You seem about ready to bolt."

"Don't tempt me," Natalie joked.

She gestured for the door, and followed Matt out, pausing only to inform her guards where she was going and to keep quiet. The pair, whom she'd grown to know and like, merely nodded with winks and zipper motions over their lips. They respectfully inclined their heads to Matt before returning to attention on either side of her bedroom door. Then the pair was slipping off down the hall, whispering and laughing as they took the side passages the servants normally used until they were out of the castle.

Natalie was beaming as they walked down the street side by side, heading for the temple where the healers practiced. It had been so long since she'd smiled this much, or had had this much fun. Matt had poked fun at every single issue nobles usually dealt with, flew in the face of common sense and protocol, and yet she was safer than she'd been in over a month. She could see him monitoring everything and everyone they passed, watching out for her safety. Maybe others would see what they were doing as massively irresponsible, but she knew better. Matt might behave childishly most of the time, but the safety and happiness of his friends was always his top priority, and she knew he'd take a hit for her in a heartbeat—not that he'd let anything get that close to her, anyway, or that she was a sitting duck. Her Crystal Staff glinted over her shoulder, faintly emanating power that she could harness in an instant.

"So, how're Lance and Anna?" Natalie asked as they turned off the main street, headed down a busy side road.

"Ah, last I heard, Lance was popping in and out of Greenwood, pestering Anna. She came by to complain about him a couple weeks ago. You probably know what it's been."

Natalie chuckled, "Peeping, questionable touches, staring, crude remarks, and perverse gifts? Or Lance being Lance, in other words?"

"Got it in one," Matt agreed. He shook his head with a smile, "But where it switches up is that Anna started doing the same back to him, and he doesn't know how to handle that. He told me last time I saw him that she's taken to losing her shirt as soon as she walks in her door from working in the fields if she knows he's there. Then she starts loudly talking about bedroom conquests. And she barges into his house while he's showering to ask if she can join him. I have no idea how much of what he says is true, but his expression when he told me was priceless."

Natalie was doubled over with laughter. "Yes! Finally, someone has unnerved Lance! I thought it would never happen! Woo, Anna!"

"Why are we woo-ing me?"

Matt and Natalie whipped around to see their other two friends standing behind them with matching arched brows. Lance's cheeks were pink as he guessed what they'd been laughing about, while Anna looked amused. Natalie's face split into a wide grin, and she darted forwards to greet them with hugs. Anna readily returned it, while Lance backed off with raised brows.

"Something tells me you're not supposed to be out here," the gunner said by way of greeting. He shot a glance at Matt and added, "How many people know she's left the castle?"

"Mm, her two guards at her room; maybe a servant or two?" Matt replied, tilting his head in consideration.

"Well, at least you've let someone know. The last thing we need is rumors that we've kidnapped the Royal Princess."

Anna rolled her eyes, "Lighten up. It's her birthday! Where're you two headed?"

"The healers' quarters: it's one of the only places I can use any kind of real magic, right now," Natalie replied as she waved them to follow. "Matt's my excuse and bodyguard; not that I'm expecting trouble, but they'll lay off on the yelling since he's the one here. We were talking about dinner afterwards, though we're not sure where, yet."

And so the group trekked down the streets in the early afternoon sun. They chatted, and swapped what they'd been doing. Natalie told them about some of the edicts she'd imposed, and places of trouble. Though she didn't ask, the others silently marked down the names and places she listed with exasperation and frustration, planning to handle the issues after they split up again. Lance mentioned a defense project he was working on that would store a person's mana and redirect it into pin-point shield without the user's awareness. It was still in the early works, he admitted, and might never be completed. Anna told them about Greenwood's latest harvest, and about a new kind of elk they'd found in the depths of Ashwood. The animals had the potential to be ridden, and she'd already trapped a few and brought them back to Greenwood to tame and train, and that things were going well there. Matt told Lance and Anna about the bandit band he'd taken out, and about rumors of a cult of Godcat fanatics they should keep an eye out for.

They'd fallen back into their usual camaraderie so quickly that none of them felt like there had been any time apart. And as Natalie greeted a surprised healer in the temple and smiled as she was led off to perform some healing, they were glad they'd come. Lance and Anna had noted the signs of tiredness in the mage's expression, and the way it seemed to evaporate in their presence. And they noted the way she seemed to be sticking extra close to Matt. Matt, in turn, had casually guided her with a hand on her lower back once or twice, but nothing more. It was an interesting turn for their friends, and they couldn't wait to grill the swordsman as soon as Natalie was out of hearing range.

"So…" Lance began as they settled down on a bench by the door of the sick room, watching Natalie work. "Have you scored, yet?"

Matt shot him a confused look, "Scored what?"

Anna coughed and discretely gestured at Natalie. "You two seem a little closer than before. Have you been stealing secret visits to her?"

Matt flushed slightly, and turned to look over at Natalie. "No," he admitted. "Today's the first time I've seen her since she agreed to rule in her brother's absence. I'll probably be visiting more from now on, though."

"How's she holding up?" Lance asked, also turning to study Natalie.

"She's overworked, but then what ruler isn't?" Matt sighed. "I asked if she could spare a few days to go hunting monsters, but she's gotten her schedule packed for the next three weeks. Oh, and her brother's recovery is taking longer than expected, and he won't be back for another couple months—something about his legs."

"Poor Natz," Anna sighed. She leaned one elbow on her knee and propped her chin on her hand. "She looks ready to sleep for a week, if she doesn't explode from tension, first."

"Speaking of, one of her guards noticed she was tense and offered sex to unwind," Matt mentioned in an off-handed tone.

Lance choked on a laugh. "Is he still in one, un-melted piece?"

Matt scowled, "Unfortunately. He must've been pretty polite about it, because Natz seemed embarrassed, but not upset from the offer. It's a different story when she's out of earshot, though. I chewed a group of guards out for the usual lusting."

"Mm, her rack?" Lance guessed. He ignored the reprimanding jab against his side from Anna as he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Has she had any issue?"

"I think the people like her too much to try anything," Matt replied. He shook his head and added, "But she's wound up enough that she considered it; ultimately decided there's no one trustworthy around, though."

"Have you offered to show her a good time?" Lance asked, and suffered another, sharper jab in the ribs as a result.

"Lance, practice a little decency," Anna muttered.

"Says the chick who strips practically every time she sees me, now."

"You don't seem to mind very much," was Anna's reply said in a sweet tone.

Matt chuckled, but his face was a little downtrodden as he admitted, "I… I offered, but she turned me down. Said she keep it in mind, but that she didn't think she needed it. I don't think she likes me that way."

Lance and Anna's eyes widened in shock, and they each mentally slapped their faces. Finally, _finally_ , Matt had made a move, and Natalie had cut him off. The gods only knew when the swordsman might try again. Maybe never. And by his tone and expression, he was hurt by the rejection, which meant he thought he'd had a chance with the girl of his dreams only to be seemingly friend-zoned. Lance made a mental note to speak with Natalie about being a little more direct, while Anna made the same note for Matt. But by then, Natalie was walking back over, her eyes happy and warm.

"All done," she announced. "You guys ready to get dinner?"

"Are we ever _not_ ready to eat?" Anna asked as she sprang to her feet. "Let's go to that one by the park. They have some awesome steaks there."

Two hours later saw them leaving a small tavern with content smiles. The sun had set, and the air had cooled, bringing the chill that promised autumn was just around the corner. Their pace was lazy and slow, prolonging when they'd have to part. Natalie in particular was dragging her heels. Being with her friends for an afternoon had been liberating, but what was waiting at the castle was isolation and frustration. Yes, she'd gotten a lot of work done, but each issue she pushed forwards and dealt with took seemingly endless arguments. It was like pulling teeth from screaming children, only more frustrating and potentially damaging. She wanted to stay with people who were far more reasonable and practical, who wouldn't demand she provide personal merits and verifications for everything she said. But that wouldn't be for another two months, at least.

"You've got this, Natz," Matt suddenly murmured. He'd been watching her expression shutting down further and further with every step they took. "You're doing real good. Lasting good. And when your brother comes back, he'll continue your good and you can come back to fighting with us. And when that happens, we'll be here to greet you."

Natalie blinked in surprise before blowing out a sigh with her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, after a month of sleep. I… I don't want to ask you guys for more help than you've been doing and giving—and don't think I haven't heard about your quiet efforts and actions to shut the bigots up and get my voice out there—but could you keep tabs on a few problems for me?"

"Of course," Anna immediately agreed. "Who do you need watched, and what do you need to know?"

"House Treail has been completely obstructive about getting to the bottom of smuggling in enchanted artifacts. I've healed three different curse cases, and two kids have been killed by faulty enchantments since the issue's been brought up. I _think_ they're profiting off the smuggling, if not spearheading it. Whoever is behind it, Treail or not, it needs to stop and I can't send the Royal Guard in without instigating internal strife and backlash from the house."

"So you need someone to shadow House Treail, and shut the smuggling operation down?" Anna summed up.

"Pretty much."

"I'll take care of that; the Treail's lands aren't very far past Lankyroot."

Lance spoke up to add, "Come find me before you deal with the smugglers, if you can. People like them… They use a lot of nasty, underhanded methods, and you should have backup."

Natalie nodded, speaking over Anna's sigh. "That works out because the other problem is close to here and better for Matt to handle." She turned to the swordsman and explained, "The patrols have reported movement in the marsh. The locals say it's some sort of swamp god come to reclaim the land we've drained for farming. God or not, I've scryed in that direction, and something big is out there that's been taking the livestock. It hasn't attacked any people, yet, but I think it'll come to that before much longer. My guess is that it's a larger than average dragon, but I'm not sure, and I can't get my superstitious guard to scout in the marsh. If you could figure out what's moving out there and bring back whatever you find, then I can organize an actual force to deal with it; assuming you don't kill it yourself, of course."

Matt's teeth flashed in the dim lighting of a lighted window in a fierce grin. "Consider it dead."

Natalie smiled back at him and the other two. "Thanks. It means a lot to me. Do you guys want some rooms for the night? It is pretty late, after all."

"Sure, and we can give you your birthday gifts," Lance agreed.

Natalie's smile widened and she continued leading the way. The guards at the gates spluttered at the sight of her walking in, having never known she'd left, but quickly stood down when Natalie informed them she'd told her own guards and that she'd simply stopped by the healers' temple and grabbed dinner. Still, Natalie noted the sour looks a couple of the guards shot her friends, and knew she'd be fencing complaints from a few noblemen over the next few weeks; not that she thought the evening out hadn't been worth the future issues. She would gladly trade a few days of extra complaints in exchange for being with her friends.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _This is a story still in the works. I have quite a lot written on it, actually, and I hope to finish it someday. Originally, this was an alternate version of a similar plot I'd already written, but now I think I'll merge the two to make a better, more complete story. That's for the future, however. As of as soon as I post this, I will be going back to crying my way through the final battle scene for Retribution. I'm hopeful to have it out soon. Which I've said many times, now. Perhaps this time I won't be lying. ;_;_

 _Leave me a review, and I'll see you all soon!_

 _ **Responses to Guest reviewers:**_

 ** _Anonymous:_** _I try to avoid explanations like "because magic" or "it's a fantasy." Those always seem lazy to me, so I refuse to do them. I do notice them, however. Like when anime characters go flying through multiple buildings/trees/cliffs/etc, I always go, "there goes their entire skeleton and life." Or when they lift ridiculously large weapons with one hand, or whatever. Or the chick is totally hitting on the guy and he's going "Herp-derp, why is she getting so close?" and I'm going "Just tap that, already, dude!" As for writing a story with fourth wall references, I try for more realistic situations/reactions/environments, but it would work nicely for a drabble, so maybe something like that will show up in_ The Epic Tales _. Yup, summons get really underused by me. Not really quite sure why, though. I guess I just forget about them. The glitch is currently in the works in a separate story of it's own. There won't be a Praetorian, but there will be a Valkyrie 2.0, complete with surround sound and a refrigerated beverage holder. XD And the alternate reality Lance is incredibly smart, and has made adjustments for his weaknesses. And he is loaded with explosives and machines of all kinds, don't worry._

 ** _Little Follower:_** _College has exploded. Finals are coming up, and I'm drowning in group projects and writing. XP_

 _Favorite backstory for Matt, huh? I actually like him best as a noble-gone-renegade or sole-survivor; it gives him a little more depth, I think. Still fun to write him as all kinds of stuff, though. I like to change where all the characters came from, though, so that probably isn't much of a surprise. I should put some of the Assassin Anna stuff I have up here, but I digress.  
_

 _I wish I could take a less is more approach on the fight against the Primordial in "_ Retribution" _. It would make it much easier on me. :P Sadly, it's a final boss fight, so I probably shouldn't cheap out on it._

 _Yeah, I totally screwed those two ideologies up. I'm ashamed. (-_-;) I meant Fascist. Similar ideology to a communist, but definitely not interchangeable._ ** _  
_**

 _The drops are certainly a way to handle parts and ammunition, but there are also the repair issues that come with running a tank around. Sure, he could replace a runner or a link in the field, but if a dragon had melted a chunk of the plating to slag, or fused the turret into place? He;d need to build a whole new tank, or take it to the shop/factory to do heavy repairs. And tanks are not good for hiking up mountains, or spelunking through caves, or trekking a jungle like Lankyroot, and never mind having to go retrieve it when you need or want it for something. The Valkyrie really needs its own, specialized setting to be included in a story._

 _I'm looking forwards to Retribution's conclusion, too. If only so I can stop worrying about writing it. T^T_


	5. No Mana (Rated T)

**Title:** Make Do Without (actual title, not just chapter title for collection-browsing purposes.)  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Warnings:** Blood, Language

* * *

Natalie swallowed as she peered out the window and watched the mob set another house on fire. She could hardly believe how violently everyone had seized onto the idea that the mages were the ones responsible for the mysterious cut off of mana. But, she couldn't stand around pondering the insanity. It was only a matter of time before the mob came to her own home to kill her. She had been open in revealing why she'd rented the small house, and hadn't thought anything of revealing her status as a former mage. It had just been a point of conversation during her outings.

Now, however, Natalie was regretting that decision. With Matt, Lance, and Anna away investigating the sudden cutoff, and her without mana she was all but defenseless. She'd need to run and hide far away from people and she would have to do it quickly. With that thought in mind, she dashed around her small home, throwing various useful items into her Adventure Pouch. She packed away a few boxes of matches, everything she had for treating injuries, some food, blankets, utensils, clothes, tools, and so on.

The whole process only took Natalie a few minutes, but it still felt like it took too long. She could hear the roars getting closer, coupled with screaming and chanting. She shivered as she slipped out a window into her backyard and shut it again. The mage stuck to the uncertain shadows, doing her best to ignore the orange flickers, the smoke from burning houses, and the screams of burning victims. She squeezed between two boards in her worn fence and darted away just as people began throwing flaming bundles through her windows.

Natalie dashed down the back alleys, winding her way towards the forest at the edge of the town. Monsters, she could deal with or run away from; humans were a problem. She paused at the end of the final alley, staying in the shadows and catching her breath as she peered out at the stretch of open space between her and her goal. Smoke hung thick in the air, and it stung her eyes and throat, but aside from pulling her collar up to cover her mouth and nose, she ignored the discomfort. She heard the shouts of the mob as they called to search for any suspicious characters, and decided that she couldn't wait.

Natalie took as deep of a breath as possible and broke from cover, sprinting for the trees. Her pounding heart skipped a beat as she heard shouts from behind calling to catch her as she fled. Not once, however, did she look back. Her only hope was to get into the trees and try to lose them. She was barely three feet from the tree line when an arrow slammed into her shoulder. Natalie bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood as she staggered from the impact. Miraculously, she kept her feet and continued running, one arm rising to clutch around the arrow head protruding from her shoulder.

The mage wove between the thick trunks of the trees, feeling hot, sticky blood run between her fingers from her wound. Still, she didn't slow down as she could hear the calls of the searchers from far too close for comfort. She forced her way through bushes, splashed through streams and staggered over rocks and roots. She had no thought in mind aside from fleeing as far and fast as she could. Her chest heaved for air and her head began to spin from exertion and blood loss, but she pushed her body to keep going.

Suddenly, a hand snagged Natalie's ankle and dragged her into a burrow. Her yelp of surprise and terror was muffled by a hand clapping over her mouth. Natalie thrashed desperately, trying to escape, but the hold on her was too strong.

"Silence, girl, or they'll find you," a low voice said in a rough whisper.

Natalie shuddered, but did as she was told. She had nothing to lose at this point, and perhaps a lot to gain. She fell still and silent and listened to the calls of the searchers outside. The person with her pulled her further back before letting her go and moving in front of her. Natalie saw a dark shape move to cover the entrance and a glint of some blade flashed in the dim light. Footsteps pounded closer to their location coupled with the flicker of a torch, but didn't pause as they dashed past.

Natalie stayed huddled as far back as possible, her heart pounding and her breath coming in shallow but silent bursts. Finally, the calls and yells died faded to silence. And her rescuer relaxed. The mage stiffened as she felt a hand on her wrist, tugging her outside, and was unable to withhold a small hiss of pain as the motion jolted her wounded arm. Instantly, the hand let go, and Natalie drew it back to herself.

"You're wounded?" a gruff voice asked.

Definitely male, Natalie decided. But the man's tone, while rough, had been concerned, so she replied, "I've got an arrow lodged in my shoulder from earlier."

The man let out a hiss, "Ouch. Well, let's get you back to my place, and we'll patch you up. Sorry for the rough handling, by the way; wasn't a lot of time to explain what I was doing."

Natalie relaxed a little more at the apology and said, "It's fine. Thank you for saving my life. How far are we from your home?"

"Not far, and without those idiots running around, we'll get there in no time," the man replied, slipping out of the burrow. He waited outside for Natalie and peered at her features in the moonlight for a moment before asking, "You going to be able to hold up until then?"

Natalie's shoulder throbbed, but she nodded, "Yes. It's not the worst injury I've ever had." She watched the man nod approvingly and scanned his person. He had long, light colored hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His face was wrinkled and had a rough beard. He wore leather armor pieces and carried a dagger sheathed at his waist. She followed behind him at his wave, and asked, "So you live out here?"

"For the last ten years or so, aye," the man replied.

Natalie waited to see if he would reveal why he lived alone in the woods, and pressed when he remained silent. "What made you choose that life?" she asked.

"To escape inane questions from stupid people," the man said shortly.

Natalie's eyebrow shot up at the rude reply, but she held her tongue. It wouldn't do to upset her only aid, she figured. _She_ knew she wasn't stupid, and she didn't really see a need to correct a person she'd just met of their own false presumption. Plus, pestering him about why he chose to live alone in the middle of nowhere _had_ been an inane question. He'd been well within his rights to be grumpy with her. In fact, she mused with a wry grin, his ill temper reminded her quite a bit of Lance.

Unbeknownst to her, the man was impressed at her lack of reply. Normally, that kind of response garnered him a defensive, and loud, protest of intelligence. He was also impressed with her ability to withstand pain. He'd been hit with arrows in his time, and he knew how much that hurt, especially when the wound was jarred. It spoke volumes of her pain tolerance, and possibly of her experience in battle. He figured the young woman following would be excellent company for the time while she healed, and that she likely could explain the sudden mob in his forest.

Finally, the pair reached a small cabin situated not far from a river. The yard had been cleared of trees, a stack of fire wood was piled against the wall with an ax not far away, and rough-hewn bench sat before a fire pit. The man strode straight up to the door, and opened and held it for Natalie. The mage nodded her thanks as she stepped inside. The interior was only two rooms, a bedroom, and a sitting room that coupled as a kitchen. Dried meats hung from the rafters of the ceiling, which was pointed. A fireplace sat against one wall, the only stone in the home. A pair of wooden chairs lined with furs sat before the hearth with a bearskin rug covering the floor.

"Home sweet home," the man grunted. He waved to the chairs and added, "Have a seat while I get some bandages, water, and poultices."

Natalie did as he asked, looking around the space. It was small, but cozy, she decided. She grinned, thinking it looked exactly like a stereotypical hunter's cabin. Then she figured that that was likely exactly her mystery rescuer was since he lived alone in the woods. She watched him putter about, pulling out clean rags, a jar full of paste, and a roll of linen bandage from a cabinet. Finally, he filled a bowl with water from a bucket in the corner and moved to sit in the other, scooting it closer to Natalie. He carefully sliced the fabric of her dress away from the wound with a small knife.

"Lucky it went clean through," the man said after a moment.

Natalie nodded, "Yeah. It would have hurt a lot more, otherwise. You know how to snap it off and pull it through, right?"

"I sure hope so, or this is going to get ugly," the man replied with a grim smile.

Natalie arched a brow at him and asked, "I want a definite answer before you start tugging stuff out of my skin. If you can't pull it out straight, then snap off the fletching and I'll do it."

"Who's the healer here, me or you?" the man asked with an arched brow of his own.

"Well I know I'm a healer, it's you I'm not sure of," Natalie shot back.

The man stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back with a loud laugh, "Oh, I like you."

"And I'd like you if you'd break that arrow off," Natalie snipped. Her lips were twitching as she suppressed a smile.

"Right, right, keep your panties on," the man grumbled with a roll of his eyes. "I'll snap the arrow, and you can pull it out; that way, I can stop the blood with some cloth."

Natalie nodded, "Sounds good. Ready when you are."

"On three," the man said, causing Natalie to tense in preparation. "One… two…" He skipped three, and swiftly snapped the arrow shaft, breaking off the fletching.

"Fucking hell, you bastard," Natalie swore from the fiery pain as she gripped the arrow below the head and yanked it straight out.

"Got quite the mouth on you," the man chuckled as he pressed two wadded up cloths into the entry and exit wounds. He held them there for several long seconds to staunch the blood before carefully letting go.

Natalie's face was white from pain, but she focused on her breathing to keep from crying out. He watched idly as the man shifted the bowl of water closer before peeling back one cloth to blot the blood up with a wet rag. The water stung, but felt blissfully cool on her aching skin as he cleaned the wound. She felt him smear the paste on after, and sighed as it immediately numbed the area. He did the same for the second hole, and before long he was binding the wound with the bandages.

"There you go," the man said as he gathered up the supplies and wiped his hands clean.

Natalie nodded, feeling light headed. "Can I get some water?" she asked faintly.

The man retrieved the requested drink and watched carefully as Natalie gulped the glass down. She looked slightly better and he said, "So, we never exchanged the pleasantries of the civil world. My name is Warren, pleased to meet you."

Natalie shook the man's hand with her uninjured arm and replied, "Likewise, and my name is Natalie." She drew her hand back and added, "Thank you so much for all your help. I was in a nasty situation back there."

"Eh, I figured you could hardly be that bad, plus the village down there has always been a bunch of fools," Warren replied with a shrug.

Natalie snorted bitterly, "That seems like too light of a term for them. They burned down the homes and killed everyone they thought could use magic."

Warren frowned, "But magic isn't working right now. Healing you would have been far easier if it were."

"They seem to think mages are responsible for the whole mess," Natalie answered with a scowl. "Never mind that if mages were planning something dastardly, we would hardly take away our own powers as well."

"So you're a mage, then," Warren noted mildly. "Are you a white mage?"

Natalie shrugged her good shoulder, "For my team, yes, but I use a lot of black magic as well. I'm highly skilled in either, not that it does me a lot of good now."

"Where's your team?" Warren asked with a frown.

"Left me behind to figure out what's up with the mana," Natalie replied with another shrug. "I can't use weapons, so I'd only be in the way. We figured I'd be safe at that town, which I would have been if they weren't a bunch of idiots." She slumped to prop her head with her good arm and murmured, "Not sure what I'm going to do now. I suppose I'll have to go into hiding somewhere and hope they find me."

Warren stood up, "Well, those are thoughts for when you're well. I'd offer my bed, but unfortunately, I don't think I could get off the floor again in the morning at my age."

Natalie sat up and waved her hand, "It's fine. I'll just sleep here on the rug in my sleeping bag."

"Very well," Warren agreed, "See you in the morning."

Natalie nodded and fished her sleeping bag out with one hand and awkwardly spread it out before flopping on it. It was warm enough to not need a cover, and she was asleep before long.

The night seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Natalie was awoken by the delicious smell of cooking meat and cracked her eyes open to see the grey light of dawn coming in from the open door along with a cool breeze. She carefully sat up with a yawn and tested her sore shoulder, only to find it hurt to move. She sighed and stood up to walk outside. Warren was at the fire pit, frying a strip of ham on a large black pan. He glanced around at Natalie's approach and scooted over on the bench to give her a place to sit.

"Meat and bread for breakfast," Warren greeted.

Natalie smiled, "Sounds good."

Before long, the pair was eating savory meat and toasted bread. Natalie watched Warren stand up and move to grab a long pole. Her head cocked with fascination as she watched the man move a distance away and run through a series of complicated moves and stances with the weapon. She'd never seen anyone use a quarter staff before, and was curious as to why he chose to use a blunt weapon instead of a blade. Warren seemed to sink into his forms, ignoring his audience. He actually jumped when Natalie applauded him after a final, powerful downwards strike.

"That was incredible," Natalie praised.

Warren looked pleased at the compliment, but he shook his head, "I was far better forty-some years ago; I just keep up the exercises now to keep me fit for hunting. I don't think I could put down the weapon after so long, anyway."

Natalie blinked in surprise at him, and took in his appearance. He was fairly old, as she'd deduced the night before. His hair and beard were mostly grey with only fain streaks of faded blond in them. His forehead was lined, and his gray-blue eyes had wrinkles at the corners—though they still glinted with a youthful light. His body had definite muscle to it, but she could see he'd gained a slight belly and sag with age. His motions as he moved to put return his quarter staff to the wall showed he had the lean grace of an experienced warrior, much like Matt and Lance.

"You know, until I really looked at you, I would have pegged you for thirty at the oldest," Natalie finally said. "You're in remarkable shape."

Warren gave a short bark of laughter, "I haven't been thirty for more years than you've been alive, lassie. But thank you, it's good to know a fellow warrior acknowledges me." He stretched his arms in front of him and winced as his joints cracked, "Now if only my body agreed with the sentiment. Ah, well, it's seen many battles, and likely figures it deserves a rest."

Natalie cocked her head and said, "You mentioned that you don't like stupid people's questions, but surely you'd be more comfortable in a town."

Warren snorted and said, "Can you imagine giving up so much freedom after a life of fighting to be coddled when others deem you invalid? No, I'm much happier here, and though I'm sure I'll die sooner, it will be a happier death." He shook his head to and changed the topic by saying, "Your shoulder will take some time to heal. As a magic user myself, I know that the mana disappearance didn't stop my body from healing itself more quickly, so I'd estimate perhaps two weeks for your arm to be fully functional again?"

"You're a mage, too?" Natalie asked in surprise. "But you use a weapon so well!"

"I'm a battle mage, if you want to give me a title," Warren said dismissively. "Part of the reason I use a quarter staff is because it augments magical attacks better than a blade. Plus, things tend to die if you hit them hard enough, regardless of an edge or not."

Natalie hesitated, thinking on that sentiment. It made sense, she thought. Lance certainly used magic and a weapon, as did Anna. She wasn't sure she'd classify either person as a mage, but either one could with enough practice an effort. And she could certainly agree that blunt trauma was definitely capable of killing something. Even if the force didn't kill, it would certainly incapacitate, either through senselessness or broken bones.

"Could you teach me to use a quarterstaff?" Natalie asked hesitantly.

Warren blinked in surprise at the request. He eyed the young mage in front of him with a considering frown. She was fit, but not muscled at all. He was willing to bet that she walked or ran a lot, but never really lifted anything heavy. Plus, as a woman, her muscles would never be as defined or as powerful as a man's. Not that that particularly meant anything; some of the best fighters he'd ever fought were women, and not because they were physically strong, but because they were sly and quick.

Natalie's eyes were what settled Warren's internal debate. They were clear and blue, filled with determination and certainty. His mind flew back to a time when similar eyes had listened to his tales of battle. He mused that the young boy from then—who'd hung on his every word and sworn to become the best fighter in the world—would be about the same age as the young woman in front of him now. It was the first time he'd thought of his nephew in years, and he wondered if the young lad had ever accomplished his childhood dream. But those were musings and wonderings for another time.

"I don't see why not," Warren finally agreed. He raised a hand to halt Natalie's cheer and added, "But it will be hard work. You'll need to build up a lot of muscle, and there is a surprising amount of skill behind swinging a heavy stick around with lethal intent. You'll need to work hard, and be very diligent in your training."

Natalie nodded rapidly, "I will! How can I start?"

Warren smiled at her enthusiasm, feeling younger for just having a young and eager person around again. "First, you'll need your arm to heal," he reminded Natalie. He chuckled at her groan of disappointment and said, "Your other arm is still good, however, so we can begin building up your strength in it."

"Right, how should I do that? Lift things?" Natalie asked, looking around.

Warren had a sudden flash of brilliance. Natalie was, for all intents and purposes, his apprentice now. He had a minion to do things for him. "Well, I suppose we can have you haul the water from the river to the barrel by the door. A bucket only takes one hand, and will weight a lot. Once your other arm is better, you can begin chopping wood, as well."

Natalie arched a brow and asked, "Do you chores, huh? I guess if I'm going to be lifting things, I might as well be doing something useful. Where's the bucket?"

"This is going to be a wonderful time," Warren sighed with a smile as he pointed Natalie to a wooden bucket hanging on a hook beside the water barrel.

The rest of the morning was spent, for Natalie, trudging back and forth between the river and the barrel. A bucket of water was surprisingly heavy, she'd found, and the barrel was large. It took her twenty-seven trips to fill the container full, and her arm was trembling and aching by the end of it. She felt a new appreciation for Matt's strength as she carefully rolled her good shoulder. It had been extra difficult with only one arm, and she'd had to be careful not to jar her wounded arm.

Warren called over from the bench, "Let's change your bandages before I set you to your next task."

Natalie wiped the sweat from her brow and trudged over to sit on the bench as well. She heard Warren give an exaggerated sniff and shot him a sour look, "Not a word."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Warren said with a smile. He reached forwards and began unwrapping the bandage around Natalie's shoulder. He eyed the wound for a few moments, gently prodding the edges, "Looks like another day with the poultice wouldn't be amiss. We'll keep it covered until it's closed off, though."

Natalie nodded, "Okay. Better wash it out again, too." She waited as Warren stood up and vanished inside to retrieve the required materials. She'd have to repay the man, somehow. He'd been incredibly kind to her, and she could hardly simply eat his food and accept his training without paying. She brought that up when he returned, "How am I to pay you back for all of this?"

"Pay me back? Why would you need to pay me back?" Warren asked in a confused tone as he uncapped the poultice.

"You saved me, and now you're feeding, housing, and training me; that normally requires a lot of money," Natalie pointed out.

Warren snorted, "I don't charge the people I save—that's ridiculous. As for the food and housing: you're sleeping on my sitting room floor, and I doubt that would cost much. It's the middle of summer, so game is plentiful and I have a large store of food already. You'll be paying back the training with hard work; don't think hauling water and chopping wood is all I'll have you doing"

Natalie shook her head, "I should be paying you back somehow, though."

"Your company is payment enough," Warren refuted in a tone of finality as he wrapped her treated wound. "It's rare that a person who ends up here has more brain cells than teeth; even more rare to have one who has a sense of humor and wit. I insist that you don't need to pay, and that will be that."

"Fine, but if I can help in anyway, let me know," Natalie finally agreed with reluctance. She stood up with her shoulder freshly bandaged and asked, "What's next? I can't chop wood with one arm."

Warren frowned thoughtfully as he gazed across his yard. Finally, he nodded to himself and said, "Balancing, I think. Your shoulder should be fine so long as you don't fall on it."

"Balancing? That sounds easy," Natalie said with a grin. She watched Warren pull a piece of firewood from the pile and hammer it into the ground on one end with another piece of wood. After that, he wet the ground around the stump so that it became a thin layer of mud.

"I'm going hunting," Warren explained with a sly smile. "I want you on one foot—either one—until I get back. If you fall off, switch which foot you're using."

Natalie eyed him strangely, but stepped up onto the log and balanced on one foot. "That's it?" she asked.

"Nope, pick you free leg up and press it to your inner thigh," Warren said with that same grin.

Natalie did as he asked and felt her muscles stretch, unused to the position.

"That's good," Warren approved. He turned to grab his quarterstaff and said, "I'll be back in a few hours."

" _A few hours_?" Natalie repeated, finally seeing why Warren was amused. She glared after the chuckling man and muttered, "Evil geezer."

Warren laughed even harder as he vanished into the trees. Natalie scowled after him, already feeling an ache begin to form in her bent leg. Still, she mused that this was actually a brilliant way to build up her flexibility and sense of balance at the same time. She wondered if she could have several posts to jump between, when her arm was better; that would certainly help her work on her balance and sureness of where her feet were placed.

An hour passed, and Natalie's legs were trembling with exhaustion. She refused to relax, however, and was determined to stay on the log until her evil trainer returned. Her determined scowl softened slightly as she actually thought about Warren. He was rough, but very kind. In a way, he reminded her of Matt, especially with his selfless attitude towards helping her. His attitude was closer to Lance, however, but without the perverted remarks, and his lifestyle was very similar to Anna's. Comparing her friends to Warren had her hoping the others were doing okay. She mused that they'd be surprised to know she'd picked up a weapon while they were gone.

Unknown to Natalie, Warren had already checked the snares he'd set out, and had returned to observe her. He was surprised at the fact that she's stayed on the log the entire time without falling. The mud around her had no footprints, showing that she hadn't fallen. She was certainly determined to learn to fight, which was a good drive to have. She had years of training that needed to be crammed into just a few weeks. Still, he mused that with her drive, intelligence, and previous battle experience, she would be fine with the truncated training. Much of any skill was using it for real, and she would catch on quickly to what did or didn't work; hopefully without making any fatal flaws.

Warren slipped out of the trees at the two and a half hour mark. Natalie had stayed on the log the entire time, and looked beyond relieved to see him. She looked even more relieved at his telling her she could get down. Her legs were stiff from holding the same position for so long, and she carefully stretched them with a groan. She finally looked up at Warren with a determined look.

"So, what's next on the evil regiment?" Natalie asked with a crooked grin.

"Lunch," Warren replied, holding up the brace of hares he held. "Do you know how to skin and clean a kill?"

Natalie nodded, "Of course. I can't do it with one hand, though."

Warren nodded, "I don't expect you to, but I wanted to check to see if you needed to learn. It's too useful of a skill to pass up; especially since you'll be living in the wilderness for an unknown amount of time. We'll cover some basic herbalism as well; for eating and healing. And I'm sure I'll think of other survival skills that can probably aid you. Perhaps that's what we'll do while waiting on your arm to heal."

Natalie nodded, "I know plenty already, of course, but anything new would be welcome."

"We'll think on it while we wait for the meat to cook," Warren decided.

The man swiftly set about skinning the hares and setting them to cook on the spit over the fire Natalie rekindled. The coals from that morning were burned down, creating the perfect temperature for cooking. As the mage turned the spit to cook the rabbits evenly, she learned how to stretch, treat, and work furs for tanning. They also discussed how to set snares with a quick demonstration of one and a promise of an example in the field. By then, the food was done cooking, and they enjoyed fresh caught and cooked rabbit.

Natalie spent the next two hours on the log again, this time on her other leg. After that, she was sent off to bathe in the river by a pointed comment on her stench from Warren. She came back just as the sun was setting with her hair damp and her blue dress on. That got Warren thinking of something else.

"We'll need to figure something out for clothing for you," the man commented. "Dresses are impractical for close combat."

Natalie looked down at her dress and frowned, "But they're all enchanted and work as armor as well. I don't want to get rid of them."

Warren stroked his beard thoughtfully and suggested, "If you're good with a needle and thread, then I suppose you could alter them to better suit battle. Only the skirts really need to be altered. The corsets could probably stay as they are."

Natalie was already shaking her head, "My skill with a needle stops at stitching wounds. I can barely patch a rip, never mind sewing proper."

"I have a seamstress I go to who could probably modify your skirts into shorts or pants, or something," Warren suggested after a long moment.

Natalie nodded, "That would be fine. I'll pay for it; I have plenty of gold, after all. The real issue, I think, is going to be whether that's a safe idea. I doubt you'd suggest her if she was stupid enough to fall in with the 'no mages' crowd, but people might get suspicious if she's seen modifying a mage's robes."

Warren hummed thoughtfully, "Good point; perhaps just one or two at a time with a warning to be discrete?"

"That'll work," Natalie agreed. "I'll sort out which ones would be worth altering, and which I'll just keep as are. I don't use most of them, anyway."

"I'll take 'em into town tomorrow, then," Warren said as he stood up. "I need to restock on some things and sell some furs, anyway."

Natalie nodded, "Okay. Maybe I'll even be done filling that stupid barrel with water before you get back."

"I doubt it. You're going to be so sore tomorrow," Warren said with an amused gleam in his eyes. "And I'm not cutting you any slack."

"We'll see if your crinkly joints can keep move faster than my aching muscles," Natalie shot back.

Warren laughed, "Touché. I'm going to bed. Stack the wood up pretty before you come in."

"Aye, aye, sir," Natalie said with a sarcastic salute.

The mage moved to pick up loose pieces of fire wood and piled them on top of the stack beside the house. Once that was done, she spread the coals in the pit around to cool, and then slipped inside. The last thing she did before lying down was to sort through her armors to select which ones she'd have altered into pants or shorts. She settled on her Dark Gown, her Red Dress, her Pope Dress, and her Camo Skirt, and left them folded on a chair. Her body was more than grateful as she reclined on her sleeping bag, and she fell asleep quickly. Tomorrow would be another exhausting day, after all.

Natalie woke feeling stiff and sore. She groaned as she sat up and slowly stood up to stretch. Every motion ached as she worked her muscles out, and she knew they wouldn't stop until tomorrow at the earliest. Today's training would be a nightmare. Still, she tied her hair back and stiffly walked to the door. Warren was already up and dishing up some more meat and bread. Natalie grinned as she accepted her plate, thinking Matt would love eating nothing but meat and bread each morning.

"So I'll be leaving after I'm finished eating," Warren told Natalie in between bites of his food. He gestured to a tied bundle of furs, leather, and her folded dresses next to the wood pile and added, "That might take some time to haggle out a decent price, plus there's the matter of your dresses, so don't expect me back before midday. While I'm gone, you'll fill the water barrel. Then, spend an hour on that log again—half an hour for each leg. And after that, if I'm not back, you'll head down river with the basket inside the front door to check my fish trap. Pull out any large fish and let the rest go."

Natalie nodded, "Got it. Have a safe trip, Warren."

Warren stood up with a nod, and slung his furs across his back. He strode out of the clearing, leaving Natalie behind. The mage scarfed down the rest of her food and stood up to retrieve the bucket for water. Her arm, legs, and shoulder protested each time she scooped up another bucket and hauled it the short distance to the barrel. Natalie ignored the aches to the best of her ability, and trudged back and forth. It took nearly twice as long to fill the barrel, but she eventually managed it.

Natalie gave herself a five minute breather before stepping up to the balance log. She glared at the piece of wood for a moment before stepping onto it with her left foot. She groaned as she lifted her other leg up and held it in the position, her muscles hating her for every moment. But she maintained her pose and her balance for the full thirty minutes, staring at the river as it flowed past and letting her mind sink into a meditative state. She switched legs at the half hour point, taking a moment to stretch and did the same for the other leg. The sun was at its height by the time she finished, and she was hot and sweaty.

"I think I'll change into a less stuffy outfit and get a drink before I go," Natalie mused aloud to herself. She nodded and moved for the hut to swiftly change out of the long dress and into the shorter White Mage dress. The outfit was frilly, but definitely cooler than her previous one, especially since she left the slip on sleeves off. She laced up her boots, grabbed the basket and a few gulps of water from the barrel, and headed out again.

Natalie trekked alongside the river, taking care on the spray-slicked stones. She listened to the rushing water on her left with a smile, and took a deep breath of the clean air. She'd missed walking through the woods during the past few weeks. She could see why Warren had chosen to live out here. It was quiet, peaceful, and free, with only the occasional monster to worry about. She cocked her head as she heard a louder, echoing splash and spied a place where the river narrowed and dropped off in a waterfall. She stepped up to the edge of the cliff and peered down to see the water fell into a large, wooden box with horizontal slats.

"That's a brilliant way to catch fish," Natalie murmured as she watched a fish go over the waterfall and become trapped in the box. She carefully made her way down the steep trail and inspected the trap. The box was held in place by several long poles that were held into place by wooden anchors wedged in the ground. Natalie chewed on her lips as she wondered what the best way to get to the trap was.

Finally, she sat down on a rock and pulled her boots off. The water looked pretty shallow, so she'd decided to just wade out to the trap. Natalie stepped into the river and shivered at the cool water, but also let out a relieved sigh. The water felt amazing on such a warm day. She waded to the box trap, the water rising up to her waist and stopping.

A number of fish were caught in the box—which was larger than she'd thought, upon closer inspection—swimming in aimless circles. A small fish fell in, but swam out between the slats, and she realized the trap allowed the smallest and youngest fish to get free. Natalie shook herself and reached into crate to grab the first slippery fish. She had no idea what kind of fish it was, but it looked plump. The animal thrashed in her grasp until she sharply wrung it to kill it, and pulled it out to set in the basket she had floating close by her, tied to her arm by cord to prevent it from floating away.

Natalie kept pulling fish out until the basket was full, and then located a latch on the side of the crate. She slid one side of the trap open and slid to the side to allow the remaining fish to swim free. She re-latched the trap and turned for the shore, dragging the large basket with her. At the bank, she shoved the basket into the fine mud and sighed as she thought about the long hike back with a heavy basket of fish. Warren had set her this task, knowing it would build muscle, but she realized—as she attempted to lift it—that she would never be able to get it back to the hut.

The mage let out a sharp gasp as her still-injured shoulder throbbed in protest. She promptly let go of the container and grasped her shoulder. "Well this sucks," Natalie muttered through gritted teeth as she massaged the skin around the wound. She stared at the basket and wondered how the hell she would get it back. She shook her head after a long moment and decided that it was impossible with only one arm and no rope to make a harness to carry it across her back.

Natalie abandoned the basket and moved to sit on a rock at the edge of the river, and let her feet dangle in the water. She'd wait for Warren to come find her when he returned, and have him carry it back. In the meantime, she'd relax for a little while, and then maybe do some stretches or balancing on a stone. She tilted her head back to catch the sun on her face and let out a sigh. She wryly mused that she'd never thought building muscle would be so trying, and she hadn't even done anything serious yet. Still, she knew she could do it, and it wasn't like she had much of a choice if she wanted to survive.

Natalie sighed and stood up, wincing at the ache in her shoulder. She looked out over the river before she cocked her head, and changed her mind about balancing. Instead, she moved further back, found a flat rock, and sat down on it, and shut her eyes. She shut her eyes and took several deep, even breaths, letting them out slowly. Meditation wasn't something she'd done since beginning her practice of magic, as she no longer needed to find her center of focus to cast magic, but the area she was in was a perfect location for it. Plus, she'd likely be doing more exercise later, so she might as well find her focus now.

The mage remained still—her legs crossed, her hands resting on her knees—and closed her eyes. She focused on the roaring sound of the waterfall, letting the constant noise drive out all other thought. Once she'd emptied her mind, she simply sat. She felt the light breeze that brushed past her hair, and allowed her thoughts to trace the wind, imagining it carrying her. A leaf drifted to land on her hand, she felt the contact sharply in her mind, but didn't twitch. She could feel every ridge and groove of the stone she sat on. She felt the flicker of her mana inside her, and tried to draw it forth. The flicker ignored her call, but she felt a soft warmth run through her veins.

From above Natalie, Warren watched, dumbfounded. He'd come looking for Natalie, and found her meditating. Instead of calling her name, he'd opted to let her continue. Finding a center was just as important for weapon practice as it was for magic, and he didn't want to discourage any attempts at it. But as he watched, a soft white glow surrounded the mage's body. It flickered uncertainly, but it was definitely magic. Natalie didn't seem to notice what she was doing, and a few moments later, the flicker faded. Shortly after that, the mage opened her eyes and her shoulders rose and fell in a long sigh.

Warren finally began to descend the cliff, still staring at the young mage. A rock skittering down the path attracted Natalie's attention, and she tensed as she twisted to look up at him. As soon as she recognized who had arrived, she relaxed again and raised her arm to wave. She froze during the motion, and her hand shot to touch her shoulder. There was no pain in her expression, only surprise. Clearly, she'd healed her wound.

"I thought magic wasn't working?" Warren said quietly.

Natalie spread her hands in confusion, "I thought it wasn't, too. I don't remember using any healing spells, and my shoulder definitely hurt when I tried to lift the fish basket. The mana ignored my call when I was meditating."

Warren tilted his head and studied the young mage. Finally he said, "You were glowing for a few moments during your meditation. Perhaps you sped up your body's natural healing?"

"Maybe," Natalie agreed slowly. She shut her eyes and tried to draw up her mana, but found it gone as it had been for several weeks. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and shook her head with frustration, "Whatever I did, I can't control it. Still, my shoulder's healed and I don't ache, so that's good."

Warren nodded and gestured to the fish basket, "Well, grab that and we'll head back. Perhaps try meditating tomorrow morning when you're sore again, and see if you can get the same result. If nothing else, at least you'll have a method to heal yourself, even if it's not viable in combat or on the move."

Natalie nodded as she tugged her boots on, and bent to scoop up the basket and propped it on her hip, "Good plan. Brilliant trap, by the way; I'd never thought of letting the fish trap themselves."

Warren chuckled, "The credit for the idea goes to my youngest sister. She was always good at creative solutions to boring tasks."

"Where is she now?" Natalie asked as they hiked back up the trail.

Warren's smile fell away, "I haven't heard from her or her family for years. The last I heard, they were living in a small town on the far side of the mountains, but that was many years ago."

Natalie was quiet for a moment before saying, "I'm sure they're fine."

"A naïve, but comforting thought," Warren said gruffly. He pushed abruptly shifted the topic and said, "Since your arm is healed, I think we'll have you chopping wood; the stack is getting low."

"Blistered hands and sore shoulders, here I come," Natalie sighed. She shifted the heavy basket she carried to her other hip and asked, "Fish for lunch and dinner today?"

"Such a smart lass," Warren said sarcastically with a grin over his shoulder. "But, aye: we'll be cooking some now and some later. The rest I'll smoke or salt for storage."

And that was how the rest of the day went. Natalie was shown the proper way to wield an axe and sent off to find some fallen trees to chop up and bring back. She hauled the cut wood back on her back and piled it up in the yard. By the time she'd finished that, Warren had cleaned, gutted, and stored the fish with one charring on the fire. He waved Natalie over and handed her a plate with a generous helping of fish and half of a baked potato with a pat of butter on top.

Natalie hungrily devoured the food, and finally understood why Matt was so hungry all the time: physical labor built up one hell of an appetite. Warren laughed at her how quickly she cleaned off her plate, and said she reminded him of his nephew. He placed another chunk of fish on her plate and watched her devour that, too. Then, he showed her how to split the logs she'd brought back with an iron wedge that she slammed through the long side until it fell into two halves. She did that twice to every section of log and piled the new wood up on the stack with sore arms and a sweaty face.

As she worked, Warren was busy stripping a long branch of its twigs and bark, and smoothing it down. By the time Natalie had finished, he had a mostly straight piece of wood about as long as the mage was tall. He called her over as soon as she was finished and held out the branch. Natalie accepted the stick with an eager expression.

"Here is your training staff. It wouldn't hold up well in a real battle, but it will do for teaching you the basics," Warren said with a small grin. He gestured to the branch and went on, "A real quarter staff is made from hardwood, smoothed down to an even surface, and tipped with metal for extra punch. But any large enough stick will work as a quarter staff so long as it's solid and the proper size: not too thin, not too fat; not too short, not too long. Your weapon should only be, at most, a foot taller than you for the style I will be teaching you. Why do you think that is?"

Natalie hefted her make-shift weapon and studied it for a few moments before saying, "Too long and I'll accidentally hit the ground?"

"Exactly," Warren said with a pleased smile. "You'll be spinning that thing in arcs, striking high, swinging low, shifting from parries to stabs, and so on. You don't want to catch the ground in the middle of a move and accidentally disarm yourself. That would be bad for several, very obvious reasons."

"Most of them ending in pain and death?" Natalie asked with a cheeky grin.

Warren chuckled, "Yup. Now, then: I'll show you a few basic stances, and I want you to do your best to emulate them. Don't expect to get them right on your first try, but do practice them as often as you can. The basics are the most important part of anything. You'll be building off them, and falling back on them constantly."

Natalie watched intently as Warren retrieved his own quarterstaff and demonstrated the proper way and distance place her hands for blocks, where to hold the weapon to defend against overhead strikes, blows from the sides, and locks. He corrected her footing multiple times, drilling in the need for proper balance, and knocked her flat on her back with a single shove when she failed to correct her stance fast enough. Natalie never complained even once, merely got back up and swiftly worked to improve her flaws. She was a fast student, easily able to see why certain stances worked better, and became quick to recover when she lost her balance.

Warren was pleased with her quick grasp of the basics of blocking, and soon moved on to thrusts. He explained that she had a lot of reach with a quarterstaff, and a lot of striking power. He emphasized that it was important to thrust straight, or she'd lose some force behind a strike, and that, as always, her footing was essential for maximum effect. He ordered her to do one hundred thrusts and left to prepare dinner. As he worked with the fish and a pot for steaming some carrots, he called out minor corrections to Natalie's form.

"Your feet are sliding apart." "Your hands are too close together." "Keep you thrusts straight." "Put more oomph into it; imagine the most irritating person you know on the receiving end of the strike, and aim for their chest."

That last one caused Natalie to crack a grin as she pictured Lance after he'd done something stupid or perverted again. She imagined his expression after she whacked him, and while she pulled of a series of perfect thrusts, she had to stop after a moment to lean on her training weapon and laugh breathlessly. Warren watched her in bemusement for a few moments before mildly commenting that she still had thirty-five thrusts to go, or she didn't get dinner. That drew Natalie back to the training. No way was she missing dinner. By the end of the practice, each of her thrusts were perfect, and her arms and shoulders trembled with exhaustion.

Natalie slumped over to the bench and laid her weapon on the ground. She accepted the glass of water handed to her and gulped it down. Following that was a wood grilled fish that she was sure she didn't actually taste as she ate it because it had gone down too fast. The steamed vegetables went the same way, and she felt pleasantly full and lethargic by the end of the meal. Warren sent her off to bathe and turned to head inside. He was impressed with her swift progress and mused that it would only be a few days before she was ready for the intermediate skills.

Two weeks later saw Natalie wearing her modified Red Dress. The corset had been kept mostly the same, though the bottom had been leveled out and hemmed to be a shirt. The skirt had been cut and resewn into a pair of pants that cut off halfway down her calves. The fabric was loose enough to be comfortable, but tight enough that it couldn't be grabbed or tripped over in combat. The other dresses she'd sent off were made much the same way, and Natalie was pleased with the alterations.

Currently, however, she was in the middle of a complex form with Warren watching her with a critical eye. Natalie's eyes were closed in concentration, as she whirled her practice weapons in smooth arcs and twirls, and her feet lightly stepped as though moving forwards into an attack. The form ended with a fierce jab into an invisible enemy's throat. Natalie opened her eyes and turned a hopeful look on Warren. She'd been trying and failing at that form for three days, either going too slowly, or making mistakes that ended with bruised shins. Warren's expression was unreadable, and Natalie let her shoulders slump before firming them to try again. And yet, she paused when Warren began to clap.

"Very nice, perfectly done," Warren congratulated with a broad smile.

Natalie's eyes widened and her own face morphed into an excited smile, "Really?"

"Really," Warren assured her. He held out a tin cup of water for Natalie, and went on as she gratefully drank, "You're a remarkably fast learner, Natalie. I never thought you'd get this far with a quarter staff this fast."

Natalie finished the cup of water off with a pleased flush, "Thanks, but I think a large part of that is your training. You're an evil taskmaster, but the constant pushes were what really got me to improve so quickly. I think anyone else would have told me to stick to magic or pick up sewing after the first few mistakes."

"Well most people are idiots," Warren grunted. "I think you're ready for some sparring matches. We'll start tomorrow morning."

Natalie cocked her head and glanced at the sun, "It's only midday. Why not do a spar this afternoon?"

"Because I want to take you out into the forest and teach you how to lay snares and stalk animals," Warren explained as he turned to the hut. "I also want to point out some useful herbs to know."

Natalie nodded her understanding as she fell into step behind the man. She paused at the water barrel to refill her cup for another drink, and gulped it down. She sat down on the bench at Warren's behest when he came out with a handful of leather cords, a knife, and a small pouch. The next ten minutes were spent showing Natalie how to tie a loop with the cord that would slide closed on an animal. The pair then went out into the trees and the mage was shown how to find small animal trails, likely places to start looking, and how to set the snare itself. Warren emphasized the need to check a snare twice a day to ensure an animal didn't free itself or a kill wasn't stolen by a scavenger. He showed how to bait certain spots with a bit of honey, and more complicated traps that took time and preparation to set up, but would work better for larger game.

After the snares were set, they spent the rest of the time in the woods finding and identifying herbs. Natalie learned which ones were good for disinfecting wounds, for numbing pain, for dealing with nausea or aches, as well as common edible plants. Warren explained that some of the plants she was shown could be found in many locations, but others were only in forests. He repeatedly urged her to be entirely sure of what a plant was before eating or using it. He then listed a series of plants and sent Natalie to find them. He complimented her accuracy when she returned a half hour later with all but one of the plants correctly identified. Her reward was to go out and find an even longer list of plants, and to check the snares.

The sun was setting by the time the pair started back to the hut. Natalie was beaming with pride as she carried a sizeable rabbit in one hand that her snare had caught, and a satchel of plants they would make into a disinfectant poultice. As they walked, Warren taught Natalie how to move quietly, how to place her feet, and what animals looked for when scanning for threats. Stillness, he emphasized, was the best way, and that she needed to be fast if she wanted to catch and kill an animal. He taught her about sprinkling salt on the ground to lure deer, but didn't actually demonstrate it. Waiting on game would be the only way to capture large animals without a bow or a trap, but it took a lot of time. He promised to teach her another day.

Natalie's head was spinning with all that she'd learned as she practiced stalking. She winced as she stepped on branch, and it snapped loudly in the stillness. She winced again at Warren's sarcastic comment of attracting attention. She focused her mind on her tasks, and soon achieved a reasonable movement by the time they reached the hut.

"That uses muscle I didn't even know existed," Natalie grumbled, rubbing one thigh.

Warren nodded, "Yes, it does. It's excellent practice for combat as well, though: Increased flexibility, and sure-footed lightness. As soon as I think you can catch game, I'll be assigning you to hunting every third day."

Natalie nodded, "Got it. So what's for dinner tonight? The rabbit I caught?"

"Of course. You're going to skin and clean it, and stretch the pelt," Warren agreed.

Natalie blanched at that, looking down at the animal hanging from her hand. She hated cleaning a kill. Though she knew how to and could do it, it was usually one of the others on the team that handled that. Still, she swallowed her protests, knowing it was something she'd need to do on her own. She settled down against the wall of the house and worked to skin the rabbit with the knife Warren handed her. Before long, she had the pelt separated, the parts they wouldn't be eating in a pile, and the parts they would be eating roasting on a spit.

"Very good," Warren praised. He eyed Natalie's slightly queasy look and asked, "Not fond of that part, eh?"

Natalie nodded as she cleaned her hands on a rag, "I like furry animals. Usually the others in my team dealt with skinning and cleaning them. I just cooked. Still, I was taught how to and it is a useful skill."

Warren nodded, "Very true. Well, since you can in fact do it for yourself, and perfectly well, I'll handle the skinning and cleaning. I will, however, insist you stretch and prepare the pelts for a while; just until you have the hang of it."

Natalie nodded gratefully, "Okay, thank you."

Silence passed as Natalie worked on salting and stretching the fur, and Warren kept an eye on the rabbit as it cooked, turning it to cook evenly. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire, and the hissing-spits form the fat dripping down from the food. After several long moments, however, Warren spoke again.

"How many teammates do you have?" Warren asked curiously.

Natalie glanced up in surprise, as he usually didn't start idle chatter. "Our team has four members including me," she replied. "There's me as our white and black mage, and we have a swordsman, a ranger, and… I actually don't really know what to call Lance. He uses a weapon called a gunblade, but he also uses magic and explosives—mostly bullets, though."

"Mm, battle mage or gun man," Warren replied.

"I guess. Whatever he is, he's a versatile fighter. They all are, really," Natalie said. She blew out a sigh and added more quietly, "I was always the weaker one. Sure, my magic was powerful, but get in close and I was dead meat; even Anna, our ranger, could handle herself in close combat. And now then with the magic gone I was a detriment, and they left me behind."

Warren checked the rabbit as he calmly said, "Mages are often the most dangerous and yet vulnerable member of any group. To learn to use magic well enough to call oneself a mage means to focus on strengthening the mind instead of the body, and while that grants awesome power through spells, it leaves the body weak by comparison. Take away the ability to cast for however long, and a mage is a detriment to his or her team."

"I know, and I know they left me behind as much for my safety as theirs. I just wish I could have stayed with them," Natalie whispered as her hands quit stretching the fur. "They're my good friends, and I miss them. I wish I'd picked up some kind of weapon years ago."

"Well, you've picked up one now, and you're improving in leaps and bounds," Warren said briskly. He pulled the rabbit off the fire and began slicing it to place on their plates. He held Natalie's plate out for her, and added, "Few ever manage to earn the right to call themselves true battle mages, but you're well on your way to achieving that. The effort you put into strengthening your mind, the patience you developed while learning spells, and your desire to be strong are serving you well with weapon training. I have little doubt that you'll be adept with a quarter staff in just a matter of a few more weeks. And there is no finer weapon you could have picked to learn, no matter how long it took you to realize that training to use a weapon is a wise decision."

Natalie smiled as she accepted her plate and began to eat. After a few moments she said, "It's probably better that I waited, or else I would have learned to use a sword or a dagger instead, if I ever thought to pick up a weapon. And even then, Matt's way better with swords than I am or ever will be."

"Is Matt your swordsman?" Warren asked.

"Yeah, though he also uses battle axes and war hammers," Natalie replied. Her eyes shone as she went on, "He's really strong and talented. We've been fighting together for years, and haven't lost yet."

Warren chuckled, "Got a crush on him?"

Natalie flushed as she vehemently denied, "No!"

"It's written across your face, you know."

"I do _not_ have a crush on Matt," Natalie insisted stubbornly.

" _He's really strong and talented_ ," Warren parroted in a surprisingly accurate imitation of Natalie's admiring voice. "I'm old, not blind or stupid. You won't be fooling me, lass."

"Stuff it, geezer," Natalie growled with red cheeks, and shoved the last of the rabbit in her mouth.

Warren merely laughed at her before standing up. He clapped a hand on Natalie's shoulder and said, "Don't worry; you'll see him and your other friends again."

Natalie's irritation faded, and she smiled, "Right. Thanks, Warren. I'll wash the dishes and stack the wood before coming in."

"Sounds good," Warren agreed. "Good night, lass."

Natalie listened to Warren head into the hut, and smiled fondly. He was an excellent man. She hoped she could introduce her friends to him someday. That got her thinking on when she might see the others again, though. They would return for her at the village, but find out the mages had been slaughtered, and her house burned down. She needed some way to inform them that she was still okay, maybe direct them to Warren's house. Her brow furrowed with thought as she gathered up her and Warren's plates to take to the river to wash.

As she scrubbed, she wondered if it was even safe to just stay at Warren's home. It was secluded, but he was clearly known in town if he had people he went to sell furs and game. And while she'd never seen anyone come out to the house, it was always possible that someone would. She was a well-known mage, and that could bring trouble down on him. Warren was skilled, but he was also old. She couldn't risk getting him killed trying to defend her, which she knew he would do if they were attacked. He'd fight alongside her, and something about him, the same something that reminded her of Matt, made her think he'd take a blow for her.

Natalie stacked the dishes, and stood straight, her eyes fixed on the water in thought. She'd have to move on as soon as she could. She'd need to finish her training, obviously, but she couldn't hang around, no matter how much she enjoyed Warren's company. Finally, she nodded to herself, settling on a plan. She'd ask Warren to discretely tell a few people in the village that he thought he could trust about her, and have them tell the team she'd made it out alive. Then she'd head for their base in the mountains and wait for them. The skills she'd learned would keep her alive and safe as she waited for them.

Natalie started stacking the wood as she planned. It was currently late summer. Warren expected her to be good enough with a quarter staff in just a few weeks. She'd likely be okay to leave in the early fall, and it would take a couple weeks to reach the base from where she currently was. She'd have to get to the base before the snows set in and stock up for the winter in case her friends didn't arrive in time. She was relatively sure she could do it, and the base was far safer than staying in another town. She decided that that would be her plan of action, and headed inside to sleep.

Early the next morning, Natalie faced Warren down. They both carried practice staves as Warren's real one would shear through Natalie's training stick. They circled warily, watching each other's movements and eyes. Warren lunged in for a jab, but was knocked aside by Natalie's thrust, and forced back by a jab of her own. He whirled his staff to bring it down on Natalie's head, but was blocked, and deflected. He nodded his approval of refusing to attempt to force him back. He was heavier, taller, and stronger than she was, and would definitely lose and lock. And then he was lunging back in, slowly building up the speed and complexity of his blows.

Natalie barely thought about her moves as she made them. She whirled, and blocked, and swung, and never paused to hesitate. Her body responded smoothly to the actions, and she successfully held Warren off for several minutes. But she was tiring, she knew, and that it would be over soon. And sure enough, Warren caught her weapon with a blindingly fast flicker, and twisted her weapon out of her hands. He pointed the butt of his staff at Natalie's throat, breathing heavily with gleaming eyes.

"I yield," Natalie panted. She slumped over when Warren pulled away, placing her hands on her knees. "You're good, Warren. Really good."

"I have been using a quarter staff for over twenty years," Warren replied, also breathing heavily. He bent to retrieve Natalie's weapon, and handed it back to her before leaning on his own. "You did remarkably well for your first spar. You already have the combat mentality of act, don't think, and you're well aware of your limitations in strength. The only thing I would suggest as of now is to pace yourself better. Yes, opening up strong would work against most opponents, but if you know your foes is stronger than you, then you need to feel out their strategy, search for weaknesses in their form and body, and conserve your strength."

Natalie nodded, "Right."

"For now, however, let us take a break. More for my sake than yours," Warren said wryly. He settled down on the bench and accepted some water that Natalie brought to him. "That was a more intense exercise than I'm used to. It was fun."

"It was," Natalie agreed with a grin. "I never understood why Matt and Lance like sparring so much before now."

"Mm, sparring against allies is also useful for learning their strategies so that you can better support them," Warren added after another gulp of water. He set the cup down, and added, "You should see about sparring with them as well, when you see them again. I'll use a variety of weapons before you go to give you a broader range of experience for that."

Natalie blinked in surprise, and asked, "What else can you use besides a quarter staff? And daggers, I suppose."

"Maces, short swords, long swords, and polearms," Warren replied. He grinned at Natalie's admiring look. "I loved traveling when I was younger, and fighting against real foes who used those weapons gave me an idea of how they worked. I enrolled in a few classes, too, of course, and am passable with many weapons."

Natalie nodded. After a few moments of silence, she quietly asked, "How long before you think I'll be safe to travel on my own?"

"Planning on leaving soon?" Warren asked. He didn't wait for a reply before saying, "I imagine that if you train hard, and keep improving at your current pace, then you'll be a good enough fighter to defend yourself from common monsters and brigands along the road in just a month."

"That soon?" Natalie asked in a stunned voice.

"That soon," Warren agreed calmly. "You're already at the skill level of someone who's been training for years. And all the weeks of hard labor doing my chores have strengthened your muscles well. All you really need now are to learn the master techniques, and gain practice against a real foe."

Natalie slumped back, "Wow. I thought I wouldn't be ready until the fall."

"Do you have a place to go?" Warren asked.

"Yes, and I wanted to speak to you about that," Natalie replied. "I wanted to ask you to let a few, trustworthy people in town know I'm alive so that they can pass the message on to my team when they arrive. They're going to find the burned house, and assume I was killed, and if that happens, well… they're a dangerous bunch, and I'm worried they'll do something rash, stupid, and wrong. Yes, most of the idiots would deserve to be slaughtered, but my friends will feel guilty."

Warren nodded slowly, already thinking of who he could speak to and trust. "I know a few people who can let them know. They'll need a description, though."

Natalie smiled, "Just say their names, and I bet they'll know my friends on sight. We're pretty well-known."

"Oh, really? A bold assumption," Warren chuckled.

"It happens when you challenge gods and win," Natalie laughed.

Warren blinked in surprise, "Gods, you say?"

"Yeah, we fought and defeated Akron a few years back, and a year or so after that, we… well, not so much won against Godcat, but she recognized our strength and pulled back," Natalie replied.

Warren looked stunned, "Amazing. I had no idea I'd rescued one of the heroes when I pulled you into that old den in the woods. No wonder you're so skilled and used to combat."

Natalie nodded, and simply said, "It's my life, really. As for where I'm going: There's a place in the mountains to the east of here that we claimed as a home base that no one else really knows about. I'll head there, and wait for them to arrive."

"I understand," Warren nodded. He rose to his feet, and briskly said, "Now then, let's have round two. Pace yourself this time, lass."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _This is an older story-in-the-works, but I've got a lot written on it, and not only on this part alone. I love writing this one, because it makes me get away from using magic, which requires a lot of thought. Plus, I always love how bowstaves look when a skilled person is using them/in movies/in video games. Plus adding magic to a bowstaff swingarc will make Natalie such a badass. And Warren is fun to write. XD This thing still needs a lot of work, though. There are probably tons of typos, it needs a more natural flow/emphasis on learning to use a weapon, and better description, but it's off to a great start. I hope to finish it someday._

 _Let me know what you think of it!_

 ** _Responses to Guest reviewers:_**

 ** _Little Follower:_** _It actually means a lot to me to_ _hear what I'm doing well, even if it seems/sounds redundant for people to write. I get very self-conscious about my writing, and I know certain aspects need serious attention. I'm really,_ REALLY _glad you always take the time to leave such thoughtful and in-depth reviews of my works. I honestly look forwards to hearing from you every time I post something. Your comments have helped me improve both in grammatical aspects and as I continue to develop plots and ideas.  
_

 _I hadn't heard of implementations of pin-point defensive systems (modern weaponry is definitely not my strong suit), but that is kinda cool to hear about. I'll have to look into it to learn more, maybe appropriate some aspects of real-life examples to add some realism to my writing. We'll see._

 _Description form an outside source is very rare in my writing, but I always wonder how others view the team. I mean, from first appearances and interactions, none of them come across as particularly dangerous. Well, aside from Lance, maybe._

 _Yeah, I thought about making up a different surname for Matt, but it was a great tip to the creator, and House Roszak, and Lord Roszak have such a nice ring to them X3 As for "Regent" it isn't Natalie's nobility surname, it's her title. She's the standing ruler as a direct blood relative of the rightful king (in this case, her brother). Lady Reagent is simply the title people use to address her, because it would be unthinkable to be addressing a crowned princess by her first name, and she isn't really the true queen, so calling her Her Grace wouldn't be acceptable, and Princess wouldn't carry the weight she needs to browbeat her authority into the noble houses. The confusion here is entirely my fault. I used the wrong word throughout the whole thing. Like a dumb-dumb. I've fixed it, now. :P  
_

 _I'll see about tossing some assassin Anna up here soon. ;) Sadly, I won't be focusing on finishing any of these or others until my current three chapter stories are done. Retribution is so close, I can taste it. It tastes like darkness and suffering._

 _Yeah, the Valkyrie would never function in real-life, but, boy, does it look cool! :D_

 ** _Anonymous:_** _I hope the real thing lives up to your hype. XD An attack that uses all of the turrets, huh? I can probably work that in. I'll definitely give you credit if I use the idea or title!_ ** _  
_**

 _Also, the box armor in EBF5 gives me life. XD_


	6. Might and Magic (Rated M)

_**Title:** Might and Magic_  
 _ **Rating:** M_  
 _ **Warnings:** Blood, Language, Violence, Gore(?), death_

* * *

Matt hit the ground hard and let out a cry of pain. A split second later, and the cry rose to a shriek as their foe ground his foot against the swordsman's broken arm. Lance struggled to lift himself to his feet to aid Matt, but slumped back down with a groan of pain. Anna remained still and silent where she had been thrown, only the faint rise and fall of her chest showed she was still alive.

Natalie's head whipped up and around from where she worked on healing the gash on Anna's stomach; the scream Matt gave was unlike anything she'd ever heard before. The mage was the least injured, bearing only minimal scrapes from flying debris as their foes had mostly ignored her. Her eyes fell on where Matt was writhing on the ground, trying to get away from the warrior who continued to torture him.

Natalie's mouth opened in a silent cry as the man raised his sword and slammed it into Matt's stomach, pinning him to the ground. The swordsman gave a choked gasp and shuddered from pain before slumping still. Natalie stood up in a daze as she stared as blood began to pool around Matt. Her gaze flickered to where Lance lay, his eyes squeezed tightly shut from pain. Then, she looked at Anna who lay on the ground at her feet, unconscious, and with a massive tear in her armor from a sword slash. She saw their foe stand back with the rest of his team to eye the defeated blonde.

"Well, so much for your team having the strength to beat anyone an anything," the man taunted. His four followers snickered as they watched. "Come on, let's kill the _mage_ and then we can loot their bodies." He put a contemptuous emphasis on Natalie's role as his eyes shifted to where she stood beside Anna.

Tears burned in Natalie's eyes as the five fighters turned to face her, stepping around Matt's fallen form. She had failed to keep her friends up during their battle, had been unable to heal them quickly enough. The only reason she remained standing was because their foes had deemed her as too weak to worry about yet, stating that magic was pointless if you could kill your enemies quickly enough. Her eyes drifted back to where Matt lay on the ground. His eyes had opened and he stared at her desperately as he raised one hand to the blade impaling him.

The fearful despair in Matt's eyes sent a shock through Natalie. And with that shock, came a rush of determination. Her eyes rose back to her foes as they came even closer with vicious smirks on their faces. Natalie's own face hardened and she raised her staff. A shift in her eyes caused them to falter in their advance: Natalie's eyes had begun to glow. These five bastards had made a mistake when they had chosen to leave her alive and unharmed.

Natalie stepped away from Anna's collapsed form with wisps of pure white light dancing around her. She walked towards her foes, but her eyes were fixed on Lance not three feet away from their enemies. She stopped beside him and a brilliant flash of light appeared around his body. In an instant, the gunner's wounds healed.

Lance's eyes shot wide open and he jolted upright upon sensing an insane amount of mana. He feared their enemies were preparing for something nasty, but what he discovered instead was almost more terrifying: Natalie's impassive face as she stepped around him, her body flickering with an aura and bending the light around her with power. Lance let out a shout of warning as she walked straight towards her foes. Natalie's specialty did not lay in close combat.

The five fighters snapped out of their shock as Natalie approached them. One man raised his heavy spear and leveled it for a thrust. Just as he began to attack, a blast of invisible power slammed into him and his team, scattering them several yards back. Natalie watched them with frigid eyes and a frozen expression.

"I'll murder you all in a second, so you can wait right there," Natalie promised them in an icy voice. As she spoke, ice formed around her foes arms and legs, pinning them to the ground. She ignored their exclamations of shock, turned her eyes away from them, and continued towards Matt.

Matt stared at Natalie as she approached him. He'd never seen the mage so furious, so cold, so murderous. Nor had he seen her display such power before. Every step she took caused the ground at her feet to be covered with frost before blackening as though from invisible flames. Matt's eyes were wide as he watched her raise her staff. A pulse of healing magic far greater than any he'd felt before rushed through his body. The sword stabbed in his flesh vanished and the wound sealed shut. His broken arm straightened and healed. All the other wounds on his body knit shut to leave smooth skin, and fresh energy filled him.

Natalie turned her head from Matt to her foes, yet she addressed the swordsman in the same icy tone she'd used before, "Get Anna and Lance out of here. You don't have to go far, but I want you out of the way. I need to show those corpses just how deadly magic really is, and I don't want you three caught up in the crossfire."

Matt scrambled to his feet without question and darted for where Lance was staggering to his feet. The two men had a brief exchange where Lance protested but Matt sharply shook his head. The gunner reluctantly turned and followed to scoop Anna up before they retreated back several hundred yards and turned back to watch. Lance began to load six bullets into his gunblade, but Matt place a palm on the weapon, pushing it down.

"Let her handle this," Matt murmured.

Lance shot the swordsman an incredulous look, "They just handed all of us our asses. She'll be murdered by them!"

Matt shook his head slightly, "No. I've never seen Natalie battle alone before, but I have little doubt she'll be okay."

Lance snorted, "Bad time to be making assumptions, I think."

"Don't you sense it?" Matt whispered, gesturing down at where Natalie was standing alone. "There's something powerful lurking here, and it's only under Natalie's control."

Lance hesitated and stared down at the lone mage. Now that Matt had mentioned it, he could sense an ominous force hanging in the air. It sent his skin prickling and caused the hair on the back of his neck to rise. The gunner shivered as he realized what the force was. Natalie's mana had suffused the air and ground and the aura only grew stronger each passing second. He's always had a sneaking suspicion that the mage was far stronger than he'd ever really seen, and now they were about to see just how strong.

The five fighters sensed an oppressive aura, but hadn't yet attributed it to Natalie; they were too busy attempting to break free of their icy shackles. Suddenly, the ice on one of them began to slowly spread. His breathing picked up with terror as it crept all the way to his neck and stopped. His eyes fitted to where Natalie approached and stopped just a foot away from him. Her eyes still glowed a chilling blue and were filled with absolutely no remorse.

"So many choices," Natalie told him softly. "Encase you in an icy tomb that will never melt? Slowly force spires through your body? Maybe I'll leave you as you are now to slowly starve and freeze."

The man swallowed, but said nothing. To his confusion, the ice receded on his body, freeing him, and by the mutters from his allies, they were free as well. The five fighters sprang up and away from Natalie. The mage watched them move, her eyes glittering with murderous intent and a small amount of amusement yet she remained motionless.

Suddenly, Natalie spoke again, her voice level and emotionless, "Magic is weak. Magic will never be as terrifying as a naked blade, nor is it as effective. Physical prowess will always conquer any mage, especially with more than one fighter. Let's see you back those claims up. Ready your weapons and send your prayers because I am your opponent now, and I am far more than any mage you've ever fought before. You will pay in blood, pain, and screams for what you did to my friends and team, and I won't even have to move from this spot to execute you."

As Natalie spoke, a storm of ice and lightning formed around her. The magic cloak crackled and hissed as ice formed in miniscule daggers to be carried on the wind, and lightning flickered along it. The ground trembled and cracked at their feet and fire erupted from the fissures that formed between spires of stone. At the end of her speech, Natalie raised her staff and twirled it, wisps of white light and black sparks trailing after the tip. Even after the display, her power continued to grow.

The five fighters drew their weapons, unimpressed at the stunning example of power and control. None of them grasped just how skilled a person had to be to control even two elements of magic at once, and Natalie skillfully and easily controlled seven at once: ice, wind, fire, earth, lightning, dark, and light. They had prodded the sleeping dragon, and now that dragon's fangs were bared at her witless prey.

Even if the five fighters didn't realize how dangerous their foe was, Matt and Lance did. They gaped at the display of magic, but their attentions were broken by a low groan from behind them. They twisted around to see Anna slowly sitting up. The ranger's eyes opened and she stiffened and immediately reached for her bow at the oppressive magic built in the air. Her head whipped around, searching for the source, but she only saw Matt and Lance watching her. The two men gestured her forwards to the edge of the rock they were crouched behind.

Anna frowned in confusion, but joined them and peered over the side. She jolted in shock at the sight below. Natalie was terraforming the landscape around her. A storm howled around her with her at the eye. The clouds flickered and flashed with multi-colored light and ripped the stone of the ground apart, but did not touch the mage that controlled it. The five fighters who had taken down the team before were lunging at Natalie, trying to get close enough to attack her.

Natalie watched the fighters as they tried to work their way around her geysers of flame and razor sharp spires of stone. One man loaded a string of bullets into his gun and fired. The shots melted into pools of lead mid-air and fell into a pool of slag three feet away from the mage. Natalie returned fire with three shards of ice. The spears slammed into the man, pinning him to the ground by the stomach and both shoulders. He howled in pain, but was silenced a second later as the air in his lungs was sucked out. He twitched for the briefest of moments before falling still forever, glazed eyes staring sightlessly at the sky, face fixed in an expression of terror.

The mage's eyes shifted to the spearman who let out a howl of rage. The man charged at Natalie, an aura granting him the defense needed to cut through the storm. And yet, the more he ran, the slower everything seemed to get. He felt as though he was running through a pool of mud, everything seemed heavy and sights around him traveled slowly. He stared ahead at the mage who stared back, eyes glowing. Suddenly, the man felt a crushing force and his body slammed into the ground, creating a crater. His bones popped, snapped, and crumpled as gravity was increased a hundredfold around him. He never saw as the area glowed briefly before detonating.

The resulting blast of Natalie's Supernova sent the remaining three fighters backwards and into a wall of stone that rose up behind them. The slumped to the ground in a pile, stunned. Natalie's head turned to follow them and she hissed, "Yes, see how their strength helped them against me? I control the air you breathe, the space you travel through. I control the ground you walk on, the water in your blood. With one thought, I could pop your body like a balloon."

And that was exactly what she did. One man simply burst and blood sprayed everywhere, splattering across his two horrified allies. Chunks of his body dropped to the ground with wet thuds alongside his two heavy daggers. The ax wielder on their team let out a whimper and lunged to his feet. He twisted to run but suddenly found his body unresponsive to his brain commands. His limbs stiffened and turned him back to face Natalie.

"Did you know your muscles run on electrical impulses?" Natalie asked in a hiss. "With a little focus, I can control every motion of your body. I could make you dance, I could turn you on your ally, I could make you kill yourself, or I could even simply stop your heart. You're a puppet and I am the master. So what shall we do with you?"

The man's eyes filled with tears as his arm drew his own weapon against his wishes. He raised the one-handed ax over his head and in a flash of motion and a cry of terror, the head came down in his gut. Natalie released her control over his body and left him to crumple to the ground, moaning and coughing as he bled out. The mage turned her eyes on the last person.

"Looks like you were wrong," Natalie breathed, somehow heard over the storm that still raged around her.

Sweat beaded on the mage's brow, but she should no signs of faltering. Her lips spread in a cold smile, one that sent the swordsman's terror even higher. One lone girl, shorter and frailer looking than any of his team had brutally slaughter four of them. They had killed hundreds of fighters both skilled and not in magic and weapons, but never had any of them fought something like Natalie. The mage that stood before him now was no human, but a force of nature in human form. As she had promised, their team had broken and fallen, and she had not moved one step.

Natalie saw the blind panic in the man's eyes grow and she felt a flash of satisfaction. She gestured with her staff and an orb of pure mana surrounded the man, lifting him in the air and bringing him closer to her. The man's face was white with fear as he met Natalie's eyes. From behind him, he heard the death rattle of his last ally as blood loss finally killed him.

"Should I torment you as you did Matt?" Natalie asked him. "Broken bones do hurt when you grind them together. I'd leave you to bleed out on the ground with something stabbed through you, but we wouldn't want to be boring now would we? I already killed one of your friends like that, and a different one from blood loss. So what should we do with you?"

The man whimpered, "Please let me go. I'm sorry for what I've done to you."

Natalie threw her head back and laughed a chilling laugh that carried no amusement. Her head fell forwards and she hissed, "You're _sorry_ , huh? I'm sure others pleaded for mercy, but I know you didn't spare them." The magic orb she sustained around the man slowly began to shrink as she went on, "You nearly killed my friends, murdered hundreds of people who did nothing wrong, tormented each of your victims, and now you want me to forgive you? No. Your arrogance and actions earned you your execution, and the only mercy you will get from me is that I will leave you dead. Be glad that I don't think you are worth more than one death or I would bring you back over and over just to kill you again."

With that, Natalie let the orb of mana crush the man. Nothing remained when the magic finally dissipated. The mage let the storm howling around her fade. Her limbs shook from the strain of supporting her magic, but she turned at the sound of footsteps running up behind her. Natalie smiled tiredly at her stunned friends just before her eyes shut. She released her staff and collapsed.

Matt let out a shout and caught Natalie before she hit the ground. Gently, he lowered her to lie on her back and felt for her pulse. To his relief, the mage's pulse was steady and strong. She had merely exhausted herself from using too much magic at once. The swordsman looked up and nodded to a worried Lance and Anna with a smile.

"She's fine, just sleeping," Matt told them.

Anna blew out a sigh of relief and looked around the landscape and what remained of the five hunters, "Wow."

Lance nodded, "Wow is right. I never knew Natalie could be so destructive." He glanced at the sleeping mage and added with a wry smirk, "Or that she could be so murderous. I'm going to think twice before commenting on her chest."

Matt laughed as he gathered Natalie into his arms and stood up, "Probably a good idea. I'm glad she's on our side, and that she was here today. We would be dead without her."

Anna nodded and murmured, "I'm glad she's usually so laid back and more interested in healing than attacking. Imagine if someone with her kind of strength, but more aggressive." She shuddered and shook her head, "The world would burn I don't think anyone could stop them."

"Well Natz is on our side, and is mostly peaceful, and knows how dangerous she is. I doubt we have anything to worry about," Matt replied with a shrug. He glanced down at Natalie fondly as she shifted to rest her face against his chest with a small smile on her face. "So where so we take her to rest?"

"Goldenbrick is closest," Lance suggested. "We can get a couple of rooms there and tell people it's safe to go out again."

The other two nodded and turned for the seaside city.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _This is an older one, and one of those combat-oriented fics I've mentioned in the past._ _I wanted to write about how deadly precise magic could be and different ways it could be used aside from a ball, and I wanted to be more descriptive with wounds and combat; oh, and expound on Natalie's fiercely protective nature when it comes to her friends and what she'd do if they were all pushed against a wall. The result was Natalie the Psychopath._ (^_^;) _This one is not expected to ever become a full story, even if it so obviously looks like the final battle for one; just a plot drabble I wrote a little over a year ago._ _Sadly, it has to go here rather than_ The Epic Tales _due to content and rating._

 ** _***FOR FUTURE UPLOADS:_** _Nothing is changing upload-wise here. BUT for my two remaining unfinished plots,_ Shadow of the Blight _, and_ The Long Road Home _,_ The Long Road Home _is next on importance. My main focus for uploads will be there with drabbles and plot ideas being uploaded here and on_ The Epic Tales _to keep you all entertained._ SotB _will probably get a chapter here and there, as you all have likely come to expect from me and my ADHD uploads, but_ TLRH _is the focus for next story to be completed as it has been up for longer._ ** _  
_**

 _Responses to Guest reviewers:_

 _ **Little Follower** : I'll get a response in for your review on Retribution's final chapter here, too. Please forgive the incoming text walls._

 _For_ Retribution _: Good to hear. I was always a little disappointed with my endings for_ An Epic Retelling _and_ Mortals, Gods, and Demons _, while_ Transformed _always seemed like more of an extended drabble than anything else-amusing to write and read, but rushed as far as a story goes_. _And yeah, I doubt Anna is as eager to go adventuring again. Not yet, anyway. She'll probably continue to do it, but not until after a long period of relaxation and recovery. And my internal shipper likes to think she gets married to Lance, but I likely won't ever write that. :3 Thank you for the poem! It was an awesome sum-up for the entire plot. I wish I had the ability to rhyme that well; my poetry takes me about a half hour just to write a couple of couplets. :P As for the party, there is no order when a drunken Matt is involved; parties involved just have to weather the storm. XD After looking back at previous chapters (and egads, the typos), specifically chapter six, I realized there were actually hints at what had happened in the mines. Inside the sealing chamber were the remains of the army that had initially fought the Primordial, and outside may have been an excavation crew for the mines that was slaughtered by the protections on the door left to ward away anyone who was attempting exactly what the Grandmaster was doing. I wish I could say that was planned, but any planning was entirely subconscious._

 _For_ Another Epic Collection: _Yeah... it's a mess. I finally went back and made those changes you mentioned. ^-^; It slipped my mind for whatever reason. I was probably out of the house when I read your review, and i can't edit the documents on my iPad. FanFiction won't reload the changes I save.  
_

 _I like minimal description, for the most part, but sometimes I find my writing is lacking in painting the picture I want my readers to see. Something I've been realizing lately with my writing is that I don't do much description of scenery i.e. towns, caves, mountains, etc. Do you think spending a paragraph or two solely for description would be a benefit? Like what I did for the description of the elven city in_ Shadow of the Blight _? Obviously I would only do that once per area, and only for large or important places._

 _As for the quarter staff techniques, I did try to find some actual video footage of real staff-play (is that even a term?), and looked up a number of articles and videos on how/when they were used, specific lengths, weights, material, etc. but I am far from an expert. And some of it I totally BS-ed, like the length for each person. I imagine I wasn't too far off from the truth, but I can't be sure. Sadly, there is a disparity of people really using them in a spar aside, just people wo participate in Ren Faires or are in medieval enthusiast clubs. The nearest thing I could find (which was linked in the side for me from a club video) was a clip of Oberyn from GoT, and he's using a spear, not a staff, which I doubt handles the same way. Still, I tried to do my homework on it. :P_

 _The fish trap wasn't my idea. I have to admit that I got that one from a book called_ On the Banks of Plum Creek _, by Laura Ingalls Wilder._ _ _I never did any searching on the web for it to see it it was a legit trap design, but s_ ince the novel was a a biography of sorts, I figured the trap probably worked._

 ** _Anonymous:_** _Yeah, I_ _have a second part of_ No Mana _that goes into a little more depth about the plot, but it was a significant time break from the first part_ _that I didn't upload it. I'm still not sure how to handle uploading large breaks in a plot like that._ Anyway, _I hope to finish it someday, but, as always, we'll see._ _Spoiler alert, Lance loses a spar against her, and she clubs Matt on the head. XD As for what I think you think I'm implying: you may just be right in thinking that I'm thinking what you're thinking I'm implying. XD_


	7. Split Up (Rated M)

**Title:** Split Up (Tentative)  
 **Rating:** T, teasing M  
 **Warnings:** Sexual themes, Language, Death

* * *

" _Natalie?_ " Lance asked in a flabbergasted and disbelieving tone.

Natalie stiffened at the familiar voice calling her name, and whipped around. Her eyes fell on Lance, staring at her, and her cheeks heated with embarrassment at the same time a thrill of complete disbelief ran through her. She'd been _sure_ that none of her friends had ended up in this twisted world. And yet that was definitely Lance at the bar, staring at her; the same red hair and eyes, the same lean physique. He'd recognized her, called her name, and was now looking between his drink and her, obviously contemplating if he'd been drugged.

Natalie's mind raced. She couldn't sit down and speak with him—certainly not with so many prying eyes and ears surrounding them—but the only way to gain any kind of privacy would be for him to buy her services. She had all of those thoughts and realizations in the span of a few seconds, and came to a conclusion. She adopted a seductive smirk and sauntered over to Lance at the bar, whose face, amusingly, heated with a blush as his eyes instinctively dropped to take in her body and revealing clothes before snapping back to her face. Natalie was long past the phase of feeling shy about her body, and knew what a potent tool a little seduction could be. Plus, it was the only way she'd be able to speak with him privately.

"Hey there, tough guy," Natalie purred, running a soft hand across Lance's cheek and down to his shoulder, fighting hard against the urge to laugh. Lance's expression looked like she'd just smacked him with a fireball spell. He remained still, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped as Natalie slid into his lap, loosely looping her arms around his neck. She could feel the beginnings of an erection against her crotch as she began slowly grinding against him.

"Natz, what-" Lance started to say in an uneven tone. He wanted to protest, to demand to know what the hell she was doing, only to be cut off as Natalie suddenly pressed her full lips against his. His hands came up to her shoulders to push her away, but stilled when her eyes flashed with a sort of desperation. He could only stare as she pulled back of her own accord, still giving him a sultry smile, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. If she weren't his friend and he wasn't so confused he would have ravished her right then and there.

"Ah, ah, words only if you pay for it," Natalie tutted in a husky voice.

Lance felt like he was going to have a permanent blush staining his face. He knew exactly what Natalie meant by ' _pay for it_ '. For whatever reason, she'd become a whore since they'd been split up. And while he was usually okay with paying for a night of pleasure, there was just something inherently wrong with this situation. Natalie had always been rather reserved, standoffish, towards sex. She'd never once taken any interest in him, always focused on Matt, and she abhorred the idea of women selling their bodies for money. But her tight, revealing outfit, her seductive tone and motions, and her words all pointed to her being a whore.

And yet, Lance could tell she was trying to tell him something with those words. Before he could figure out just what, however, a man wandered over and lifted Natalie clean off his lap. Lance's eyes narrowed and he tensed defensively as he watched a flicker of frustration cross Natalie's expression before she shifted back into the sultry routine. She didn't resist at all when the man started grinding against her, merely demanded he pay before touching. The man murmured that he could make it worth her while for free. Natalie pulled away and ran her hands down the man's arms and directed him to the front desk. The man rolled his eyes, but turned promising to be back. Natalie purred for him to hurry up before someone else got her first; she shot Lance a desperate and pointed glance.

As soon as the man was gone, Lance stood up; abandoning his drink and ignoring the awkward boner he had gotten from Natalie. "How do I pay?" he asked her in a level tone.

Natalie's eyes betrayed her immense relief as she looped her arms around one of his and guided him to a desk. Lance had a brief discussion where he handed over a surprisingly large amount of cash and followed Natalie to one of the many doors lining the dim room. He watched Natalie make subtle seductive motions at the men she passed, but maintained a steady course for the doors. He headed inside as soon as Natalie opened one, and watched her lock the door behind them.

Instantly, Natalie's entire countenance shifted. Her shoulders slumped as she pressed her forehead against the door, and let out a heavy, tense sigh. Lance watched her with a level of concern and confusion. Finally, the young woman turned around and beamed at him.

"Sorry about that, Lance," Natalie breathed. "I'm technically on the job, and they get…. mad if I stop to chat with people."

Lance arched a brow, but nodded. He sat down on the edge of the bed at Natalie's behest and waited until she settled beside him before saying, "So I'm equal parts confused, aroused, and upset. I thought I was the only one here, and even if I had thought you were here too, I never would have figured you'd pick up whoring. What happened?" A thought occurred to him and his eyes narrowed as he demanded, "Wait, are you being held here?"

Natalie shrugged with a flicker of shame crossing her features, "Yes and no to that last one. Women aren't allowed to do basically anything here, and I needed food and shelter. Plus my body is… well suited for pleasure. I tried to do other things, but I was turned away everywhere I went, and thievery is severely punished."

Lance blew out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He studied Natalie for a long moment, not doubting her words, but taking in just how tired and worn she looked. Clearly, she wasn't happy living this life; her face was drawn now that she'd let her act drop, her eyes shadowed with despair, and there was obvious shame to her expression. He felt awful knowing she'd made the choice to give up her morals to keep living, and wished he'd found her sooner.

"Whatever kept you alive," Lance finally said in a quiet tone. He awkwardly wrapped an arm around Natalie's shoulders in a one-armed hug, trying to comfort her. After a moment, he added, "I've picked up some unsavoury work as well, if that makes you feel any better."

Natalie cracked a small half-smile as she murmured, "Misery does love company, I suppose. What have you been up to?"

Lance's voice was quiet, his eyes cold as he replied, "I'm an assassin now. I've killed a lot of people who probably did nothing to deserve it because someone wanted them dead. Old, young, strong weak—if someone pays to get a mark on a head, then I take out the target."

Natalie shook her head slowly, and returned Lance's hug as she quietly said, "What a fucked up world this is."

Lance nodded silently. After several long moments, he offered, "Well, at least being a hitman pays well. I can support you and me easily, so you don't need to work here anymore. What do we need to do to get you out?"

Natalie twisted to gape up at Lance. She hadn't even thought about getting out of whoring, merely wanted to speak with her old friend. He met her incredulous eyes with an arched brow, and the expression was so painfully familiar that Natalie's eyes welled with tears. Still, she felt guilty to just be taking advantage of Lance. "I can't accept that, Lance," she said quietly, her eyes dropping to where her fingers picked at the sheets of the bed. "I have no way to pay you back, nor will I ever have a way. I can't just start freeloading off you."

Lance snorted and replied, "Well I can't accept leaving you here for whatever man who wants you to shove their cock in you just so you can get some food and a place to rest your head. You're my friend, and I have absolutely no problem with supporting you. Besides, I don't plan on living like this forever, so you can help me figure out how to bust out of this crap hole of a place."

Natalie smiled softly as she breathed, "Thanks, Lance."

"You're welcome. Now, do I need to pay for you to leave, or can you just walk out?" Lance asked.

"I refused to sign their contract, so I can just leave at any time," Natalie replied, standing up. "It meant that I get none of the benefits aside from a place to sleep and two meals a day, and they keep eighty percent of my earnings, but I'm also technically not their whore. I'll just need to tell them I'm leaving, and they should let me go."

Lance nodded standing up as well, "Got it. Let's go, then. We can head back to my place and set you up in the guest room. Do you have anything you need to bring with you?"

Natalie didn't reply, but moved to a corner of the room. She knelt down and pried up one of the floorboards and withdrew her Adventure Pouch. All of her worldly belongings were stored in it, even if she never got the chance to use them anymore. She'd debated simply selling the gear inside, but hadn't been able to part with any of them, as they were her only reminders of her old life. She pulled out her old Red Dress and held it up with a distant look in her eyes. It felt like it had been an age since she'd last worn it.

Lance waited patiently with his back turned as Natalie stripped down and pulled on the dress. He was tempted to ogle an eyeful, but decided he wanted to savor the fact that he had at least one of his friends back for a while before he started making them yell. Still, he felt his almost gone arousal come back at the thought of a beautiful woman stripping behind him. He blew out a silent sigh as he wryly mused that he and his hand were going to have a moment later. It never crossed his mind to ask Natalie to lay back, as he had paid for her. In his mind, she was Matt's girl, and whether or not the swordsman was here was irrelevant to that fact; never mind the fact that she was his friend.

Natalie finished dressing and followed Lance out the door. She stuck close beside him, only breaking away to inform the desk that she was leaving, and not coming back. The person manning the desk shrugged and waved her off. And then the pair was outside in the chilly night air. Natalie grinned up at Lance, who smirked back and led the way down the dark street. After a brief walk, he stopped beside a hoverbike and waved Natalie onto the backseat. The mage looked surprised at the vehicle, but sat down without protest and accepted the spare helmet Lance offered her.

"I didn't think you'd own one of these, though I suppose it is your kind of toy," Natalie commented as she buckled the helmet on.

Lance grinned as he settled down with a second helmet on. He inputted his code and sent a small spurt of mana into the machine, causing it to whir to life. "Yeah, I love this thing. It'll get us to my- _our_ place in just a few minutes," he replied. He felt a distinct thrill of delight at being able to call it their place, not just his.

Natalie felt as the bike lifted into the air. She leaned forwards to wrap her arms around Lance's waist for stability as he suddenly took off. A bubble of warm air formed around them to protect them from the chill wind. Lights flashed past below as Lance expertly piloted the bike between buildings and over streets. Before long, he was parking it inside the garage of a small, nondescript house. A work bench lined one wall, littered with tools and bits of scrap parts. A single door led the way inside.

Natalie waited as Lance had shut the garage and powered up the security and followed him inside. The events of the evening suddenly seemed to finally sink in, and she drew in a sharp breath, prompting Lance to look back at her.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" Natalie asked in a dazed voice.

Lance snorted, "Not unless we both are. Come on, I'll show you around."

The next fifteen minutes were spent acquainting Natalie with the small, one floor house. He had two bedrooms—a master and a smaller guest room, two full baths—one connected to the master bedroom, one just off from the guest room, a fairly sizeable kitchen with all the major appliances a person would need to cook, a laundry room, a dining room with a square table and two chairs. Just off of the dining room was a fairly large sitting room with a long couch and a plush recliner; a low coffee table sat in the center of the space, and shelves were along the wall with the windows looking out at a small backyard. There was an electric fireplace set into the wall adjacent to the shelves. Finally, there was a basement where Lance had set up a more comprehensive workshop.

"Nice place," Natalie complimented.

The pair was seated in the sitting room with cups of hot chocolate. Natalie was perched on the couch, and Lance was flopped in the recliner. A bowl of chips sat between them on the table to share.

"Yeah, I guess," Lance agreed. His eyes drifted around the space for a moment before he added, "It's a little big for just me, but cheap; plus I had… kinda hoped I'd find one of you guys, so I bought a bigger place to room us."

Natalie set her mug of hot chocolate down on the table. She studied Lance's wistful expression as he stared out the window. "So you haven't seen Matt or Anna, huh," she said, though her voice made it clear that she wasn't asking a question.

Lance shook his head, "No, I haven't. You'd think Matt at least would be easy to find what with his perchance for getting into trouble, but I guess he's not here with us." He brought his gaze around to Natalie as he asked, "Any chance that Anna picked up whoring, too?"

"Maybe," Natalie said with a shrug. "I hope not, though. I had the body to get into a fairly reputable place, but if she's whoring… Well, she'd be working the streets, which is a lot lower of pay, and a lot more dangerous. It's possible that she picked up thieving, though. She certainly has the skills for it and to avoid getting caught."

"Anna the thief, huh," Lance mused with a smirk. "I'll laugh so hard if that's what she's doing. Of course, she may not be here, either."

Natalie nodded somberly, "That would be better, I think." There was a long moment of silence before the mage shook herself. She turned her eyes on Lance and asked, "So what can I do to help you? I'll pick up the chores and cooking, if you want."

Lance nodded, "Yeah, that's fine. I need to go to the store to get some more food tomorrow, so I can show you the way. I may leave for days on end, by the way; it depends on if I have a job or not. I'll see about getting something to keep you entertained here." His head tilted and he studied Natalie for a long moment before adding, "I'll have to pick up some other stuff for you, too, I suppose. You'll need your own bath stuff, your own clothes, plus we'll need more dishes, and a few other things."

"I don't need new clothes," Natalie refuted. "I can make do with just my armors."

Lance arched a brow and calmly said, "I somehow doubt your armor will fit in around here."

"Then I'll just stay inside," Natalie said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

Lance rolled his eyes and asked, "What's wrong with getting new clothes, Natz?"

Natalie was quiet for a long time. Finally, after another prod from Lance, she murmured, "I already owe you so much for getting me out of that pleasure house, Lance. I don't want to be a bigger burden than absolutely necessary."

"Okay, let's clear this up right now," Lance said flatly. He leaned forwards and fixed Natalie with a stern look, "I have a shit ton of money saved up with no plans to spend it in the foreseeable future. You are my friend, not a burden, and it cheapens our friendship for you to be thinking the way you are. If you really want to repay me, then just be my friend. It's been a long six months since I've seen anyone from our team, and I'm lonely. You being here to talk with is a huge blessing, not a burden. Got it?"

Natalie stared at Lance for a long moment before smiling softly and nodding, "I'll just shut up and let you pamper me, then. Let me know if I can help beyond housework, though."

"Well you can start by promising to never, ever, seduce me ever again," Lance said with a smirk.

The mage across from him flushed lightly and mumbled, "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem."

Lance's smirk widened, "Good, but if you'll excuse me, I still have a problem already caused by you to take care of. This is probably not a good thing to say, but you made a hot whore."

Natalie buried her face in the arm of the sofa and pointed at the hallway. Her voice was muffled as she said, "You are just as horrible as always. Go masturbate or whatever before I remove the problem permanently. I'll be here, purging my mind of everything you just said." Her voice carried a large amount of amusement, however.

Lance chuckled and strode off down the hall. Natalie sat up as soon as he was gone and shot an amused and exasperated smile at the bathroom door as she heard the shower turn on. Lance was as incorrigible as ever, and it was a relief to see and hear. His jokes brought a level of familiarity back to her life, and she was looking forwards to cracking more with him. Now that she was no longer virgin, she was a lot less flustered about the topic.

Natalie stood up and retrieved Lance's empty mug as well as her own and the mostly eaten chips. She carried them into the kitchen and set about putting everything away. As she worked, she wondered what Matt was doing. It wasn't the first time the swordsman had crossed her mind; she spent many hours each day wondering about him and the others of the team. She'd worried that maybe they would look at her differently once they found out how she had been living, but Lance's response settled those fears. Still, she wished she could see Matt and Anna again.

Footsteps down the hall just as she was drying the mugs had her glancing back to greet Lance with a smile. The gunner grinned back and leaned in the doorway to watch her set the mugs she'd washed in the cabinet. He still had a hard time believing she was here now. It was the end of long days and nights of just surviving, wondering and fearing if he'd never see the team again. Now he had someone to come back to, to talk with. Natalie had no idea how closed off he'd gotten after the first couple months alone. She'd successfully snapped him out of his depressed funk just as effectively as she'd snapped him out of his heartlessness when they'd first met.

"So, off to sleep now?" Natalie asked as she spread the towel she'd used to dry the dishes off on the counter.

Lance snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, "Yeah. The guest room is yours now, so feel free to shove furniture around and set your stuff out. I don't have any jobs lined up for now, so we can spend all day catching up and shopping tomorrow."

Natalie grinned at him as she stepped past to head for her room. "You sound like a teenage girl," she joked.

"Not until I start talking about how cute the nearest boy is," Lance shot back. He paused at a window and stared at his reflection, jokingly flexing an arm and saying, "Wait, look at how hot he is."

Natalie burst out in laughter, and shoved Lance. The gunner chuckled as well before saying, "Good night, Natz. See you in the morning."

"G'night, Lance," Natalie replied, still grinning.

They slipped into their separate rooms.

 **OOOOOO**

Late the next morning saw Lance trailing along behind Natalie, holding onto a number of bags. They were walking back to the house after a trip to the grocery store and a retail store. Natalie had picked out a few outfits to appease Lance, and they had grabbed a couple of towels and soaps for her to use as well as some cheap dishes. They had also gone to get a duplicate of the house keys for her to keep on her.

"Why did I agree to this again?" Lance asked with a frown.

Natalie's eyes twinkled as she looked over her shoulder, "Because you're an awesome friend."

"Yeah, awesome friend, not bag boy," Lance huffed. He shifted the bags looped over his arms to a better position and grumbled, "I feel like your boyfriend. That's Matt's job, not mine."

"Matt and I were never a couple," Natalie reminded him as she unlocked the front door.

"Only because you were too much of a wuss to ask him out, and he was too much of an idiot to even consider romance," Lance muttered. He set the bags down in the front hall with a sigh of relief.

"I doubt Matt ever liked me enough to think of dating me," Natalie replied with a wistful smile. She picked up the groceries and carried them into the kitchen to put away.

Lance followed her to help and suggested, "Well, you can always ask him straight out when we see him again."

Natalie paused where she was placing a box of energy drinks in the fridge. She stared at the label as she asked quietly, "What if I never see him again? We don't even know if he ended up here with us, or how to get back."

Lance placed a hand on the mage's slumped shoulder and said, "You'll see him again, so don't give up. We both thought that we were the only ones here, and that turned out to be wrong. I bet the other two are running around somewhere as well, you'll see."

"But what if I don't?" Natalie persisted, finally shutting the fridge when it began to beep at her.

"You will, but if you really want an answer, then I guess you move on," Lance said firmly. "Matt isn't the only nice guy you'll ever meet, and I'm sure you could win someone's heart if you wanted to try. You're strong, smart, beautiful, funny, and kind."

Natalie shot him a grateful smile and said, "Careful before all these sweet nothings go to my head and I fall for _you_."

Lance made a face and said, "No offense, but I've already got someone I'm looking at."

"Oh?" Natalie asked with a grin. "Would that someone happen to be a petite ranger with green hair and eyes and a fierce temper? Her name just might start with an ' _A_ '?"

"Maybe," Lance smirked back. His hand sneaked to rest on Natalie's ass and he said, "The only thing I might every want from you past friendship is relief." His eyes sparkled with mischievous humor.

Natalie smacked his hand off with a laugh and said, "Not happening unless I suddenly wake up hot and bothered with an urge to bang." She leaned one hip against the counter and crossed her arms as she added, "Besides, I'm pretty sure you told me no seduction."

"Yet another poor decision on my part," Lance joked. He turned back to the bags and moved a number of boxes and bags of crackers and chips to the pantry. His lips were quirked in a half-smile as he bantered back and forth with Natalie. He was used to her blowing up at him with flustered yells when he said similar things to her in the past, but these new interactions were way more entertaining, and far less painful.

Natalie stacked the fruit they'd purchased in a bowl on the counter. With the groceries away, she asked, "What now?"

Lance shrugged, "Dunno. I normally just sleep when I'm not on a job or repairing things, but that was more because I was depressed. I don't have much in the way of entertainment aside from a few books and the TV."

Natalie's eyes softened with concern as she asked, "Are you still depressed?"

"Are you kidding me? I have an awesome friend to crack off-color jokes with," Lance said with a smirk.

"And what else is there to depression or lack thereof other than the odd grope and sex joke?" Natalie said with a grin. She led the way to the sitting room, flopped on the sofa, and suggested, "We could start really looking for the other two."

Lance dropped down in his recliner and said, "Yeah. I tried to locate them from rumors while I'm on the job, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of either one. If Anna's become a thief or is whoring, then she'd be pretty low profile. Matt might have joined a guard somewhere, because he certainly isn't at any gladiator pits."

Natalie frowned thoughtfully as she mused, "I doubt Matt could hack it as a guard. He's too undisciplined, and guard work would be boring for him. Are there any other places a strong young man could have ended up that don't involve fighting?"

Lance tilted his head, staring blankly at the dark fireplace as he thought. Finally he shrugged and said, "Well, manual labor is always a possibility. He may have gotten roped up in the mines, or something."

"Mines?" Natalie repeated in a confused tone.

"Yeah, mining is a big industry here, and they're always looking for new workers," Lance explained. "Still, I can't really see Matt whacking stone with a pickax all day; especially if he can't keep the stuff he digs up."

Natalie frowned and asked, "Do they ever have unwilling laborers? Maybe the reason we can't find Anna or Matt is because they're stuck in the mines."

"You know, I'm not sure," Lance murmured thoughtfully. "The mine shafts are like mazes, so running isn't really an option, not if you want to avoid starving to death, anyway. I've never _heard_ of forced labor here, but that doesn't mean it isn't a problem. I suppose I could ask my contacts."

Natalie nodded, "You should do that. If nothing else, then we can write it off as a possibility if slavery isn't a thing here."

Lance stood up and stretched, "Well, then I guess I'll go do that now. Feel free to do whatever while I'm gone."

"See you later," Natalie replied.

Within a few minutes, Lance was walking out the front door. Natalie lied back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. She wondered where Matt and Anna were, wondered how many contacts Lance had, wondered what they'd have for dinner that night, wondered where the heck Matt and Anna would sleep if they came to stay here too. Amidst her wonderings, Natalie's eyelids drooped before shutting as she fell asleep.

Lance came back just after sundown. His contacts had been shifty about the mines, saying it was dangerous to pry into the mining industries affairs. Still, they had helped him get into several of the larger companies records, and helped him transcribe a number of files to browse through. He figured that there was indeed something shady going on if even the assassins were uncomfortable discussing the topic.

The gunner toed his boots off and opened his mouth to call for Natalie, only to shut his mouth again as he spotted her. The mage was lying on her side on the sofa, her arms drawn up to her chest as she slept. Her face was relaxed and strands of hair lay haphazardly across her face. Lance shook his head with a grin, thinking that she would have been more comfortable if she'd walked the twenty paces to her bed. Still, he padded silently over to his recliner and pulled the throw off the back of it to drape over Natalie. He'd let her sleep while he threw together something for dinner.

Natalie woke to the smell of something delicious cooking and the faint feeling of a breeze drifting past her face. Crickets chirped outside, and the cool breeze paired nicely with the blanket placed over her. She peeled her eyes open and was surprised to see it was dark outside the windows, which were open to let in some fresh air. Rock music faintly drifted from the kitchen where she could also hear Lance puttering around as he threw together what smelled like some kind of roast.

The mage sat up, letting the blanket fall to her lap. She stretched her arms in front or her before standing up and folding the sheet. She padded over to the kitchen in time to see Lance moving half of a pork roast to a platter. A covered bowl of some kind sat not far away, steam drifting up from under the plate set over it. The gunner turned with the platter of meat in hand, only to stop when he saw Natalie.

"Well, well, the sleeping princess awakens without the kiss of true love," Lance joked, reaching one hand over to turn off his music player.

Natalie chuckled and said, "Sorry, about falling asleep. I should have made dinner, not napped."

"Eh, it's fine," Lance replied with a shrug as he walked past to set the food on the table in the dining room. "I'll just leave you with all of the dishes in revenge."

"That's fair," Natalie agreed, carrying over the covered bowl, which she discovered were mashed potatoes. She saw that a salad already sat in the other room. "This looks good, Lance," she complimented.

Lance nodded, "Yeah, simple but tasty stuff. I don't normally cook, but I figured we have reason to celebrate. Do we break out the alcohol?"

"No true celebration passes without a little drink," Natalie agreed with a grin.

"That's what I think," Lance smirked. He headed back into the kitchen and pulled out a couple of beer cans and tossed one to Natalie when he came back, "Beer, the poor man's wine."

"I thought you had a shit ton of money?" Natalie said with a grin as she popped the tab on the can.

"Ah, but I have the poor man's taste," Lance said before taking a gulp of his beer. "Matt must have rubbed off on me."

Natalie laughed as she served herself some food. She took a bite of the savory roast and made a small sound of appreciation. She swallowed the food and asked, "Speaking of Matt, what did you find out?"

"Not too much, yet," Lance replied as he scooped some potatoes on his plate. "My contacts seemed pretty shifty about the mines, not answering one way or another on whether there are slaves or not."

"Which means there probably are," Natalie noted mildly.

"Exactly," Lance agreed. "They did, however, help me hack the systems of a number of the bigger mines. I've got a data dump to wade through which will hopefully contain a record of the miners."

"Alongside endless order forms, requisition forms, reports, inspection, management," Natalie listed with a wry grin.

Lance sighed and nodded, "Probably. Maybe I'll make you help me with that."

"Dishes aren't enough punishment for sleeping through cooking dinner?" Natalie asked with a grin. "Sure, I can help. Just tell me what to do."

"After dinner," Lance said around a mouthful of salad.

The pair ate the rest of the dinner in silence. Afterwards, they packed the leftovers in the fridge and Natalie set to work scrubbing the dishes. While she washed, Lance poked fun at her, asking if she'd like a nap, or saying to put more back into scrubbing the pans of meat drippings that had burned on. That finally stopped when Natalie flung a handful of soap suds at him, the foam landing on his face in such a way that Natalie laughed that he was rabid. Lance made a few snarling noises that dissolved into spitting as he got the soap in his mouth. Natalie doubled over laughing as he made several strange faces at the bitter taste, until he finally washed his mouth out with an energy drink.

"And that does it," Natalie exclaimed, setting the last dish in the dishwasher with some soap and setting it to run. She dried her hands off and smiled at Lance as she asked, "Shall we throw ourselves into the dull life of corporate work?"

Lance heaved a sigh, "Might as well. It isn't going to just spit the information at us, after all. More's the pity."

Natalie followed Lance to his room where he had, to her confusion, two laptops and a desktop computer lined up on a long table with a single rolling chair. A ceiling fan was turned on low, generating a soft breeze. There was a door leading to a small closet, and a small book case with a few novels lined on it beside a weapons rack. A queen sized bed was against the far corner, the sheets and pillows all bundled up from sleep. A side table sat to one side of the bed bearing a lamp, an alarm clock, and a small framed photo.

Curiosity piqued, Natalie moved to pick up the photograph, and her eyes widened in surprise. It was a picture of the team sitting in the grass in Greenwood. She and Anna were smiling, Matt had made a strange face right as the picture was taken, Lance looked like he had been immensely bored with the whole process, but his face was mostly relaxed. She remembered when this photo had been taken: it was right after they had returned the Jewel to Greenwood after defeating Godcat. Anna had insisted on a photo, and had gotten a villager to snap a picture for them. She guiltily couldn't remember what she'd done with her copy, but Lance had clearly held onto his. By the creases in the paper, he'd folded it up and stuck it somewhere safe.

"Sentimental, I know," Lance suddenly said. He had moved to boot up the computers, and was watching Natalie out of the corner of his eye.

Natalie set the picture back down and said, "Maybe, but there's nothing wrong with being sentimental; it's nice, actually. I'm surprised you still have it, though."

Lance shrugged and murmured, "Well, back then I was pretty insecure about my place on the team. Anna's got a far better personality than I do, and could do just about everything I could. I worried that maybe you and Matt would start pulling away, leave me out of things, or maybe even ask me to go. I worried about that the whole quest, wondering if it was my last on the team, which translated to aggressive behavior towards Anna, who I saw as a replacement, but that wasn't what happened at all. We just added Anna, and that was that; just one more… member of the family. That picture is a nice, physical reminder that we are all on the same team, and happy about it."

Natalie stared at the side of Lance's face, speechless. She'd had no idea back then that Lance had thought she and Matt would throw him aside. She also had no idea that Lance saw the team as a second family. She knew he'd had a crappy childhood, though he never really talked about it beyond the occasional tidbit. He must have feared that any change to the norm would upset and destroy his zone of comfort. Her eyes drifted back to the picture as she realized just why Lance had gotten depressed when they'd all been separated, and why he was so adamant that they'd find the others. They _were_ his family, his rock, his roots, now. He didn't want to face the idea that they were gone, so he refused to.

Finally, the mage said softly, "Well I for one will never make you leave, Lance. Now we just need to find where Matt and Anna are holed up and we can get back to being a team again."

Lance shot her a grateful smile and held out a laptop for her to take. "I've already copied the files onto it. We're looking for records of workers, quotas being filled, even disciplinary measures might help. I can't imagine Anna or Matt staying in the mines quietly if they're there," he instructed.

Natalie accepted the computer and snagged a pillow to prop against the wall behind her back on the bed. She settled down and began delving through a seemingly endless source of files. Lance worked through two other companies at the same time, leaving on to load a search and browsing the second before switching. The soft sounds of keys being hit and yawns were the only noises for a while.

Natalie's dulled eyes skimmed yet another report about workers in a mine called Azure Dust. Suddenly, a thump had her jumping in surprise. She glanced over at Lance to see that he'd fallen over asleep on the desk; a glance over at the clock told her it was three in the morning. She smiled at the gunner and set the laptop aside to stand up and wrap a blanket around his shoulders. Lance blew out a content sigh at the added warmth, but remained asleep, one arm coming up to pillow his head.

Natalie located the power supply for the laptop she was using and plugged it in before slipping out of the room. She shut all the open windows in the house, latching them. Then she checked to be sure the doors were locked before snagging an energy drink to bring back to Lance's room. She settled back down on the bed and returned to browsing files, sipping at her drink to stay awake. She sank into the information she was going through, pulling up file after file and scanning them. It wasn't until the sun was just rising that she found anything of interest.

"New batch of workers received. Two not compliant to regulations. Requesting workers one-twenty-seven and one-twenty-eight be moved to shaft B-54, sublevel three until further notice," Natalie read aloud to herself in a whisper. She pulled up a search for the two numbers and her eyebrows shot up at the number of reports that came back listing damages and disciplinary measures. Her tired eyes widened as she found a file with photograph identification for the two workers. She clicked on the file and it opened to reveal Matt's and Anna's faces.

"Bingo!" Natalie exclaimed.

Lance jolted upright mumbling, "Was his name-o?" Clearly, he had heard Natalie's exclamation, but his half-asleep mind made up an entirely different context for it. He blinked at the mage's grinning face for a few moments before his eyes drifted to the pink sky outside. His jaw cracked in a wide yawn before he asked, "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"At about three," Natalie confirmed. She turned the laptop around and added, "Does this make up for sleeping through making dinner?"

Lance's eyes widened at the images on the computer screen before he shot to his feet with a cheer. "You found them!" he said excitedly.

Natalie nodded, turning the computer back around. She clicked a few times and started reporting what she found, "Apparently, they were brought in to Azure Dust mines five and a half months ago at the same time. Both of them put up a struggle for the first few days, almost escaping on day five. Their overseers then requested they be transferred to the deepest shafts available." She scanned the document silently for a moment before adding with a frown, "They might not be there anymore, though. This document is the most recent one, dated back five months ago."

Lance shook his head, "Even so, at least we know they're here too. We'll have to go to the mines and ask for them… or break in. I'll bet that they won't be willing to admit to owning illegal workers, so we may have to bust them out." He slumped back to sit down, his eyes distant as he turned over several thoughts in his head.

Natalie covered a yawn with her hand. Now that the excitement of her discovery had worn off, she was abruptly reminded of the fact that she'd just spent the last several hours doing mind-numbing research. Still, she was determined to stay focused on Lance as he came up with a plan. He had better knowledge of how the world here worked, and was experienced at getting into and out of places undetected. She waited patiently for ten minutes, her eyes feeling dry and tired, yawning every fifteen seconds or so, and her head slowly drooping only to pick back up again.

"Go get some sleep, Natz," Lance suddenly said, finally catching onto Natalie's exhaustion. He shook his head and firmly spoke over her protest, "This is going to take some serious thinking and preparation that, between the two of us, only I can do. You might as well go get some rest so you'll be ready to move."

Natalie hesitated for a moment longer before nodding, "Okay, but don't leave without me."

Lance smirked, "And come back to a fireball in my face? No thanks. We can't go for a few days, anyway; I have a contract they foisted on me when I showed up yesterday. It's a local hit, so it shouldn't take long, but an infiltration like we're looking at here will take some serious thought and planning."

"Okay, good luck, then," Natalie mumbled tiredly as she headed for the door.

 **OOOOOO**

Clang. Clang. Clang. Shuffle. Scrape. Groan. Clunk. Squeak. Squeak.

Those were the sounds that made up much of Matt's days. His pickax rose and fell seemingly without end, chipping away at precious minerals to load into carts which were wheeled away to tracks. From there, the minerals were taken to larger carts and sent to the surface. His world was a pool of light, a worn tool, and endless stone. He could hardly remember what the sun looked like, or what fresh air smelled like. Down here, everything was dark, and smelled of dust, sweat, blood, and despair.

Matt paused after another swing and raised an arm to wipe the sweat from his face. He had a strip of cloth tied around his forehead to keep sweat from rolling into his eyes, but the drips on his nose were irritating. He dully eyed the vein of minerals in front of him and sighed before raising his pickax once more. He had two fill two more carts before last meal or go to sleep hungry. He let his mind go blank as he swung, sinking into the monotony of mining. He broke off another sizeable chunk of ore and tossed it into the replacement cart for the one he'd filled and sent off.

Not far away, Anna was straining to push a heavy metal cart of mined minerals to the drop off. Unfortunately, the entire trip was uphill, making gravity work against her. The air was stale and hot, with vents here and there to cycle oxygen down to the lower levels. She relished each time she passed one, as it blew a cooler breeze across her face. It made the endless toil of heaving a cart that was several times heavier than she was up a seemingly endless slope slightly more bearable. Still, her muscles trembled under the strain, and she let out grunts of exertion. But she was almost there, she knew, and this was her last load of the day. Then she would go to the mess hall—quite literally a hall where the miners were given their food—and she would get to see Matt.

Anna's brow furrowed for a different reason at the thought of her friend. Matt was starting to really worry her. He was so lethargic lately—barely speaking, picking at his food, never smiling, only showing any real interest in his surroundings if someone harassed her when she was around him. She knew he had all but given up on getting free after gods only knew how many days they'd been down here. She feared that maybe he would just will himself dead before too long, like many of the older miners did. They merely gave up on life, deciding that death sounded like the perfect rest. She didn't know what she would do if he died and left her here alone.

Anna breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she finally reached the drop off. She locked the wheels of her cart in one of the several rows of other full carts. With that done, she turned and walked towards the mess hall. She passed a number of workers who all whacked at the walls, grunting, panting, and groaning. She tried to tune out the sounds, weary of hearing them. She quietly hummed a nonsensical tune to herself, no longer able to recall any of her favorite songs anymore. She felt like she'd forgotten a lot of things since coming down here, and some of the events she knew she had participated in felt more like dreams. It had been easier to remember herself when Matt spoke with her, but she was starting to forget now that he'd withdrawn. Still, even if he wasn't speaking to her, she made an effort to speak with him.

Anna turned a corner to see the worn wooden tables and benches of the mess hall. She paused for a moment, peering around for Matt. A small smile curled her lips when she spotted her friend sitting at the end of a table, his head leaning on one hand as he swirled whatever glop they were serving as food around in his bowl. She quickly got in line for her own food and sighed at the off color soupy paste that was ladled into her bowl. Still, it was edible, if only barely, which meant it would work to keep her going. She strode towards Matt with her food in hand and sat down beside him.

"Hey, Matt," Anna said as cheerfully as she could.

Matt remained silent, though his eyes flicked up to acknowledge her being there before dropping back down to his bowl.

Anna felt the familiar twinge of sorrow at his lack of any kind of effort at speech, but pushed it away as she always did to smile at him. "Glad to see you didn't drop your pickax on your foot, or something; that would have sucked," she said lightly.

Still he was silent.

"One of the guys I was working alongside almost crushed an overseer because he was going too fast downhill," Anna commented between bites of the tasteless glop. "He was newer here, so he hadn't gotten boring yet, and he kept cracking these awful puns every time he passed me because he knew I'd seen the incident. Want to hear one?"

Matt made no motion to affirm of deny any interest in her words.

"' _Well, looks like I nearly ran over the overseer; what an oversight that would have been_ '," Anna recalled with a grin, regardless of Matt's lack of care. Still, she felt the familiar burn of tears in her eyes, and, for once, was unable to stop them before one leaked down her cheek.

Anna hastily wiped the drop away, blaming her lack of control on a long day of hard labor. A part of her mind acknowledged that the real reason was because she could tell she was losing Matt. Unfortunately, while Matt may not have noticed, the man sitting not far away from her did. He started loudly whispering about emotional women and how he wished she would just keel over already, earning him a round of chuckles from the other men.

Anna tensed angrily, but said nothing. To her dismay, however, Matt said nothing either. It was the first time he'd not leapt to her defense. Instead, he laid his spoon down and stood up, his food only half finished. Anna watched with despair as her friend trudged off without a single glance back. She didn't know what to do. Being held captive for so long had destroyed Matt, and while she might have slowed the inevitable for some time, she couldn't stop it. She couldn't free him—couldn't even free herself—couldn't offer any whimsical plans of escape or disruption, and couldn't keep his spirits up.

Anna stood up before finishing her food as well. She could feel the tears just waiting to fall, and didn't want to be surrounded by judging strangers while she broke down. The only person she knew here was Matt, and he no longer seemed to really be alive anymore. Still, the ranger forced her tired and sore body into a jog after her friend. She knew he would be curling up to sleep and she wanted to try one last thing to keep him with her.

The young woman caught up to Matt just as he was settling down in his usual nook. He didn't even acknowledge her presence this time, merely laid down with his back to her and fell still. Still, Anna knelt beside him and gripped his shoulder with one hand. She gave him a few shakes, well aware of the tears on her cheeks as they trailed through the dirt and sweat on her skin. After the fifth shake, Matt finally rolled over to look at her with dull blue eyes. His expression didn't change at all at her obvious distress; he merely waited numbly for her to say what she wanted to say.

Anna leaned down to wrap her arms around Matt where he lay on the stone. She whispered in a desperate voice, "Please don't leave me behind, Matt. I'll fall if you're not here anymore."

Matt still didn't reply. He didn't even twitch at her emotion leaden words. His mind barely comprehended his own name, anymore. And yet, he recognized a familiar voice thick with grief through the fog shrouding his thoughts. He tried to focus on it, but couldn't bring himself to reply in any way—couldn't bring himself to care. The person clinging to him seemed to know this because they tightened their grip on him.

"This is it, isn't it?" Anna murmured sorrowfully when Matt remained unresponsive. She finally released him and whispered, "Well I'm not going to waste away down here. If I'm to die in these gods forsaken mines, then it will be on _my_ terms."

Matt felt a stir from her words. He could tell the strange mixture of defiance and final defeat, and his tired soul began to protest fearfully.

"First, though, I need to kill a few of these bastards. A pickax should do nicely enough for a little while. Goodbye, Matt. I'll be waiting for you and the rest on the other side," Anna murmured, standing up.

Matt's mind snapped to sudden, sharp clarity at those words. He let out a desperate, keening cry in a hoarse voice and lunged forwards to latch onto Anna's arm. Not another one, he couldn't let another one of his friends vanish from his life. He was unaware of his raspy babbling for Anna to not go anywhere, his voice rough from so long without use. Anna was all he had left, and if she went, then where would he go? What would he do? Who or what could possibly call him back anymore?

Anna was startled at the sudden intense display of emotion and noise from Matt. Now he was the one with tears running down his face. He clung to her with the desperation of a starving man, pleading brokenly for her to stay with him before moving to cries for Lance and Natalie to come back and broken apologies for whatever he'd done to deserve this. Anna slowly wrapped her arms around Matt, and held him tightly against her chest. He was snapping in a far more apparent way now, and she could only hope that her presence would be enough to salvage his strained mind and soul.

Matt continued to shake and cry, fearing that the silence from Anna meant that she wasn't planning to stay. His breathing caught in a desperate, choked sob as his mind recoiled from the idea of being all alone and he let out another keen of despair. And then, he felt Anna's arms come around him and her soft voice begin to sing a sweet song. His scrambled mind couldn't pick out the words in his state of distress, but the tone was soft, and the tempo slow. It worked wonders on calming him down, his cries fading to the occasional hiccough.

Anna felt a rush of relief hit her as Matt finally seemed to be soothed. She'd never seen anything like his breakdown before and it had scared her. Her frantic mind had cast about for some way to calm him, and finally settled on a wisp of a memory. The tune and a few words of a Greenwood lullaby had come to her, and she'd started singing. As she sang, the rest of the words came to her mind and flowed out of her mouth. It was a gentle song about warm days, soft breezes, sleeping animals, bright sunshine, and cool streams. She was overjoyed at being able to remember something, and even more so that the memory had helped Matt, who was now quiet, though still shaking slightly against her, his face buried in her shoulder.

"You okay now?" Anna asked quietly.

"Are you going to stay?" Matt asked in reply, his arms tightening around her waist.

Anna nodded, "Of course."

"Then yes, I am," Matt whispered. He felt Anna slowly pull back and let her go so that she could shift to sit beside him.

Anna was silent for a long while, letting Matt lean against her to reassure himself of her presence. She was grateful that they had both skipped out of eating early, as this would have been impossible with a crowd of uncaring spectators. She let one of her hands rise to rub Matt's leg as he wiped his face clean of tears and finally whispered, "I'm glad you're back. I've missed you."

Matt stilled and lowered his arms to stare at Anna in confusion, "Back? I've been here the whole time."

Anna shook her head slightly, "Your body, maybe, but not you. I've been watching you slip away for a long time now, and I thought that maybe you'd finally given up. You've been so quiet and lifeless, not even really looking at me anymore. I thought I'd failed as a friend to keep you strong. And maybe I did; you would never have gotten to that point if I had been stronger."

"Your strength pulled me back, though," Matt said in a firm voice. He wrapped an arm around Anna to give her squeeze as he promised, "I won't do that again, I promise. It'll be you and me until we get out of here; and we will, even if we have to dig a gods-damned tunnel to the surface."

Anna chuckled slightly, "Well, we both certainly have the knowledge to do that now, but I doubt we could manage it." It felt so good to laugh, and even better to hear Matt's laugh. After a moment, she fell back into a more serious mood as she murmured, "You were crying out for Lance and Natalie."

Matt winced but nodded, "Yeah. I- I miss them… a lot. They aren't here, and then you were going to not be here, and I just wanted everything to just go back to how it used to be, and-" He cut himself off as he realized that he was beginning to babble, and instead said in a sincere tone, "I'm really sorry for scaring you—for leaving you behind."

Anna shook her head slightly, "It's all good now. We'll see them again, someday, I just know it. Maybe they're even looking for us."

"Maybe," Matt agreed with a faint smile. His eyelids began to droop and he let his head rest on Anna's shoulder. He remembered doing this once or twice with Natalie when they had finished a harrowing battle and were exhausted. It had always made him feel safe and so happy, and Natalie had certainly enjoyed it. While he didn't get quite the same feeling with Anna, he did feel comforted by her presence. She'd been tying him down the whole time, and she had called him back when he'd finally broken loose. He felt her head fall to rest against his, and he let out a smile as he was immensely grateful that at least he had one of his friends with him.

Both friends fell asleep like that, drawing comfort from each other. Anna was relieved at Matt's return to himself, and Matt was relieved that he wasn't, and had never been, alone. Their peaceful rest lasted the whole night, though they couldn't see the sun or moon to know that. Each of them dreamed of better times and of hopeful looks to the future when they would be reunited with their friends.

They woke the next day to the raucous clanging of the overseer calling them to breakfast. Both felt far better for the night's peaceful rest and the reaffirmation of the others' presence. They filed into the mess hall with the rest of the miners who'd come in after they'd fallen asleep. Anna stoically ignored the mocking tear swipes and sniffles some of the other miners made when she passed. She didn't care that they were so near-sighted and downtrodden to need to bring another person down to feel better. She had her friend, and that was enough.

Matt, however, shot dangerous looks at each of the offenders that had them backing off. He caught Anna's relieved and thankful grin, which he returned before making a face at the sad excuse for porridge that was ladled into his bowl. He and Anna made their way to the end of a table and sat down. Matt picked up a spoonful of the grey sludge and let it drop back into the bowl. With a sigh, he shoved a spoonful into his mouth and swallowed it. At least it was warm, he mused wryly.

"I swear this is paste," Anna muttered as she prodded the grey substance with one fingertip. "And why is it grey? Porridge is supposed to be a tan color."

Matt cracked a grin and suggested, "Maybe they're adding rocks to it. Gods know we have plenty of those down here."

Anna was taken aback for a moment at Matt's reply. She was so used to him remaining silent that she'd expected to have to answer her own question, but it was a very welcome change. She shot a grin back at Matt and mused, "Maybe they think we'll have better luck digging if we have some kind of stone sense; maybe eating rocks will give us the ability to just tell where the mineral veins are."

Matt chuckled around another mouthful of porridge. He swallowed and muttered, "Wait, isn't cement grey with a similar consistency to this stuff?"

Anna shrugged with a wide grin, "Kind of, I think? Maybe we really are onto something with this rock-food, thing."

A call for the workers to line up broke them away from their conversation. They abandoned what was left of their mystery porridge to stand and await their orders for the day. Both exchanged delighted grins when they heard that they were both on digging, and on the same ore vein. They stepped forwards to retrieve their tools before heading off to start working. They worked in tandem, cheerfully and quickly depleting the vein before moving on to the next one. The work was better with company, even though they hardly spoke at all. A passing overseer complimented them for the rate at which they dug before moving on.

It was shortly after the overseer had left that Matt paused mid-swing. He glanced around the dark space with narrow eyes, lowering his pickax to his side. His pause made Anna stop as well, wondering what was wrong. She noticed that Mat was scanning their surroundings, and her own eyes drifted. Then, her own eyes narrowed as she picked up on what Matt had sensed. Someone or something was nearby, and it wasn't a worker or an overseer. Matt's hand gripped the handle of his pickax, and he glared into the shadows, his blue eyes gleaming fiercely. Maybe he didn't have a sword, but he was willing to bet he could take out whatever was there with a pickax.

"What are you two doing?" a voice suddenly said imperiously.

Matt and Anna both jumped and turned to see the overseer from before striding towards them. The man looked angry, and was already unclipping a taser from his belt. Matt shot a look at Anna, who was pale. They'd been on the receiving end of the electric jolt from a taser more than once, and neither one wanted to repeat the experience. Still, they could hardly attack an overseer and expect to get away with it.

Matt stepped forwards with a sneer on his face, "I was just thinking about sticking this pickax into your face. Your skull is probably about as hard as a rock, anyway."

The overseer turned bright red with anger as Anna choked on a mixture of a laugh and an exclamation of surprise.

"Oh really, worm?" the overseer spat.

Matt gave a bored shrug, "Well, it's dull down here. I've got nothing better to do than imagine fun ways to kill you guys." He glanced over his shoulder at Anna and added, "She's no fun. She keeps stopping me."

Anna felt her blood run cold as she realized what Matt was doing. He'd successfully taken full blame for stopping working and made it seem like she had merely paused to prevent him from attacking someone. Before she could open her mouth to protest, she heard the familiar hiss of the taser start up. The overseer ducked a purposefully clumsy blow from Matt and jabbed his taser into the blonde's side. Matt went down with a cry of pain and twitched on the floor. Anna fell down beside him and looked up at the overseer.

"He won't do it again, please stop," Anna begged.

The overseer ignored her and raised his taser again. And then his head suddenly twisted with a sick cracking sound and his body hit the ground. Anna recoiled from the corpse with an obviously broken neck, and crouched over Matt protectively, clutching her pickax tightly in both hands. The blond was dazed, and didn't seem to realize what was going on. Anna glared at the shadowy figure that stood just out of the light's reach.

"I'm glad you two are still alive and sane," a familiar voice said.

Anna froze, her pickax dropping from her hand to hit the ground with a dull clatter. She stared at the shadow and stood up before mumbling, "Lance?"

And sure enough, Lance stepped into the pool of light with a broad smirk, "Sorry it took so long to find you guys."

Anna lunged forwards and tackled her friend, causing him to grunt as the air was forced from his lungs. She clung to him babbling about how glad she was to see him, asking how the hell he'd gotten down here, and begging him to get her and Matt out. She felt arms come around her as well and for the first time in so long, she felt safe.

"Hey, hey, calm down so we can go," Lance murmured, stroking Anna's matted hair with one hand.

Anna sniffled, but pulled back with a nod, "Right. Sorry."

Matt let out a groan from behind them, causing Anna to whip around and pull him up. The dazed swordsman let out a yelp of surprise that soon turned to a gasp of shock. He gaped at Lance with ridiculously wide eyes before giving himself a hard pinch. He heard a chuckle from Lance as he yelped, proving that he wasn't dreaming.

"Come on, we don't have a lot of time," Lance said firmly. "Natalie's distracting the guards, but I'd rather not leave her there for any longer than necessary."

"Wait, you _left_ Natz with the guards?" Matt asked in a disapproving, incredulous voice.

Lance's face tightened as he muttered, "You don't know the half of it. She volunteered and it was the best option."

Anna frowned as she and Matt started following behind Lance. "Your tone makes me think she's doing something dangerous," she commented softly.

"Dangerous? No. Questionable? Yes," Lance replied. He shot a look over his shoulder and said, "I'll tell you what she's doing if you both promise to keep your exclamations to a minimum."

Matt nodded, "Sure."

"Of course," Anna agreed.

Lance blew out a sigh and murmured, "She's had a rough several months, but the… skills she picked up are useful for distraction. She's currently seducing the men guarding the entrance to this shaft. She may even be offering her body up at this point."

Matt froze with a wide-eyed look of horror, "She's doing _what_?"

Anna shook her head and murmured, "I can't see Natz agreeing to that, much less managing to pull it off."

"She spent the last six months or so working as a whore to get food and a place to sleep, and believe me when I say she is _really_ good at the seduction," Lance told them flatly. He caught Matt's fist as it swung towards his head and said warningly, "None of that. I never took her; it was just her way of getting me to a place where we could talk privately. I've already gotten her out of that life and she's been staying at my place. She doesn't like using her new skills, but she's doing it to get you two out."

Matt felt a pang of sorrow and possessive disappointment rise up in him. He cared about Natalie a great deal, and to know she had been forced to whore her body out to survive was hard to take in. He fell into step behind Lance as the gunner let go of him to lead the way again. Anna squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and he shot her a grateful look. There would be time to talk and be upset later. For now, they needed to escape.

Anna watched as Lance confidently, carefully, and yet swiftly led them through the tunnels. She noted that he wore dark grey clothes, and had smudged soot on his face and neck, breaking up any patches of pale skin. On top of that, he moved with a new kind of graceful stealth that she herself used to get around unheard. She wondered when he'd picked up the new stealth tactics, but figured she could find out later.

They paused at the final turn and Lance peered around the corner to check the way ahead before gesturing for his friends to follow. The two guards he'd drugged were still out, their glasses of water spiked with a sedative. Matt and Anna eyed the unconscious guards, but said nothing as they followed Lance through the checkpoint. From there, they moved a little more quickly, the tunnels more empty as the ore had already been depleted. They passed a number of guards unconscious on the ground, some with their weapons drawn. Clearly, Lance had taken them out on his way down, and wanted to get out before they woke up.

What seemed like hours later, but was in reality only thirty minutes, they stopped at a heavy door. Lance pressed his ear to it and closed his eyes, listening carefully. After a moment, he nodded and rapped the door. There was a tense moment of silence, and then the door hissed open to reveal Natalie beaming at them. Without a word, she lunged forwards to wrap Matt in a tight hug.

Matt returned the embrace and inhaled deeply as her nearly-forgotten scent washed over him—the wild scent of magic with a soft undertone of vanilla. He couldn't smell anything else on her, which pleased him greatly; however she'd dealt with the guards, she hadn't given them sex. He reluctantly let go of the mage when she pulled back to hug Anna and turned his eyes on Lance. The gunner's face was soft as he looked over the reunited team, but he also looked impatient. They weren't safe yet, after all.

"We can do hugs and catching up later, but for now we need to go," Lance said firmly.

Natalie pulled back from Anna and nodded, "Right. I, _er_ , took care of the two from earlier. They won't be bothering us."

Lance's eyebrows shot straight up as he said, "You were that good?"

Natalie shoved him with a flush, though she was smiling. "No, I whacked a couple pressure points. They never saw it coming."

"You know pressure points?" Lance asked in a baffled tone as he turned to guide them on.

Natalie shrugged, "Sure. They're some of the best ways to elicit responses from people."

Matt's mouth tightened as he murmured, "Right."

Anna glanced at him before turning the topic to something more productive and less upsetting, "How far do we have to go?"

"Not far now," Lance replied. "There's only one more touchy part and that's when we get outside. I timed the break in so that the least number of guards would be out and about, and if my timing is correct now, then they should be at their lunch shift. That means there will only be a couple of guards on watch, and they'll be eating, which is a distraction."

"You're good at this infiltration thing," Matt commented.

Lance shrugged, "Comes with the territory. Natz took up pleasure, I refined killing." He suffered the smack Natalie gave him with a grin.

"So that's where all the stealth came from," Anna realized aloud. "You're an assassin now, aren't you?"

"Give the girl a prize," Lance joked. He listened to the chuckles from behind him before waving his hand for silence, "Okay, no speaking at all from here until I say so, got it?"

The others nodded. Lance rounded the next corner and led them past the empty station to a side door where he waved for them to wait. He opened the door and strolled straight through, looking for the entire world like he was supposed to be there. The three waiting outside heard a question followed by a flurry of movement and sound, and then Lance was poking his head out and motioning them in. Two guards lay unconscious on the floor, their unfinished lunch sitting on a table. Lance stepped over their bodies and stopped beside the exit.

"We're going to get as far as we can without being spotted," Lance breathed. "If we do get detected, then start sprinting for the sapling beside the wall straight across from this door. There's a patch of fence that I cut there for us to get through. Now let's go."

Matt and Anna watched Lance throw the door open, flooding the room with sunlight. Both of the former miners winced at the sudden bright light, and squinted. It was brighter than they remembered, and it made their eyes water. Still, the rush of fresh air and the warmth of the light was a blessing to them, something they'd always taken for granted before. They could hardly believe it was a luxury they would once again have.

Lance glanced back at the pair, and frowned when he noticed them squinting. He waited a few moments, to give their eyes time to adjust. He hadn't considered the effects living underground for so long could have. On top of being unused to the sun, their skin was so pale it looked white; at least the patches he could see were. There was a layer of dirt and grime coating their bodies, so much that he could almost assume they had brown skin. Both of them were thinner than he remembered, but it was a lean thinness. Clearly, they had muscle from months of hard labor. Their clothes were threadbare, and just as stained as their skin, but it was a covering.

"You guys set?" Lance quietly asked after a few minutes.

The pair nodded and the gunner smiled. He turned and led the way outside. They stuck to the shadows of buildings and mountains of quarried stone, sliding between them on Lance's command as he kept an eye on the watch. They were three-quarters of the way there when they were finally detected. Lance had thought the man was turning, only to see too late that he'd merely been stretching. There was a moment's pause where the man stared at them before realization lit his mind.

"Hey, you! Stop!" the watch called.

Lance groaned and snapped, "Go. Natz will guide you to the meeting place. I need to stop that guy before he flips the alarm."

Without waiting for a reply, the gunner dashed around the corner of a building, unslinging his rifle from his back. He propped the gun on a chunk of stone and took aim, peering down the scope. In a matter of seconds, he'd lined the shot up and pulled the trigger. He felt the recoil of the gun and heard the muffled ping of the shot. A second later, and he saw the man he'd been aiming for go down, a bullet through his head. Lance stood up and listened for any noise signaling that there were other guards about. When all remained silent, he holstered his rifle across his back again, and turned to head out.

Meanwhile, Natalie had ushered Matt and Anna through the small section of chain link fence that Lance had cut. The pair slid through the gap and dashed for the trees with Natalie close behind them. The mage overtook the other pair and led the way down and invisible, winding trail to the meeting point she and Lance had set up in the event of being separated. There, she stopped, her breath coming in sharp pants. She watched Matt and Anna slump to the ground, gasping for air. Natalie remained standing, and brought her Crystal Staff out of her Adventure Pouch.

As he caught his breath, Matt watched Natalie take up a defensive stance, attention focused on the trees surrounding them. She looked exactly as he remembered: strong, confident, and beautiful. His eyes shifted to where Anna was slumped beside him, and realized with a flash of sorrow that he couldn't recall what she'd looked like before, having been with her as they'd suffered. He mused that they were both probably thinner than they had been however long ago, and in desperate need of a bath. Wash day in the mines came once every month, and only if there was water to spare. He didn't even want to think about what he probably smelled like.

Natalie raised her staff as a shadow detached itself from the trees, but relaxed a moment later when she recognized Lance. "We're free?" she asked.

Lance nodded, "Yeah, we're free. Still, we should hurry to the transport. The sooner we're back at the house, the better."

Anna stood up as she asked, "You've got a house?"

Matt asked, "Does it have actual food, not cement masquerading as porridge?"

Lance cracked a grin as he said, "Of course there's food, but I'm demanding both of you are clean before I'll let you sit down anywhere. It's a miracle your stench didn't draw the guards."

Natalie burst out in laughter at the indignant huffs Matt and Anna gave. The cheerful sound soon spread to the rest of them, and they took a few moments to just laugh. Relief rushed through each of them; they were back together, all of them safe. Finally, Lance motioned for the others to follow. He'd borrowed a larger hovercraft from the assassins and it was hidden not far away. They'd use it to get back to the city where they could finally rest and reconnect.

The next few hours were a blur to Matt and Anna. Both were exhausted from the rush of their rescue. They'd been loaded into a large vehicle that Lance had piloted to a compound that only he was allowed to enter. After that, there had been smaller transports to a house where they'd been pushed into the showers. The warm water had felt like heaven on their skin, and they'd scrubbed off weeks of grime until the water finally ran clean. Both had untangled their hair and washed it out, and were given clothes to wear. Finally, they were sat down on a couch with plates of warm food in front of them.

"I think I died and went to heaven," Matt breathed as he reclined on the couch with a satisfyingly full stomach.

"You and me both," Anna agreed with a lazy smile.

Lance and Natalie watched them with wide smiles, both hardly able to believe that their friends were back. They'd planned that rescue for days, gathering information, scouting the compound, preparing for if things went wrong, and jamming the radio and camera signals with dummy feeds. Despite all that, they had, on some level, believed that they wouldn't find their friends, much less get them out. And both of Matt and Anna were in stunningly good health considering where they'd been for so long, though there was a certain level of clinginess between them. That attachment was to be expected, though. For a long time, they'd only had each other, and the other's presence was a source of comfort and security.

"Thanks for busting us out," Anna suddenly said quietly. "You have no idea how glad we are to be out of there."

Lance shrugged, "You're welcome, I just wish I'd found you or Natz sooner. She was the one who nudged our search in the right direction. I was kind of just blindly stumbling around, hoping to hear about one of you."

Matt sat up straight and turned a tense look on Natalie. "Lance told us you were stuck whoring," he said quietly.

Natalie nodded with a frown, "Yeah, it was all I could do here. I thought I was the only one who wound up in this place, and needed some way to stay sheltered and fed." She shot a grateful smile at Lance as she added, "Then Lance spotted me in the pleasure house and brought me home with him."

"After you seduced him," Anna added with a grin.

Lance made a face as he said, "Please don't remind me of that. It was the most awkward moment of my life."

Matt cracked a small grin as he said, "Well, I wish you hadn't had to do that, Natz, but I'm glad you're safe."

Natalie beamed back at him, "The same from me to you guys. You were down there for a long time, and we were worried one or both of you had died or gone crazy."

Anna winced and mumbled, "It was a near thing, that's for sure."

Lance frowned as he asked, "You slipped?"

"No, I did," Matt revealed quietly. He shot a look at Anna as he explained, "I just… gave up. Anna tells me I was basically a walking corpse that got worse every day."

"He was pretty bad," Anna admitted softly. "I don't know how long the whole process took, but he quit talking, quit eating, and never expressed any emotion. The only times he ever seemed to be there were when someone was picking on me and he got defensive, but even that stopped yesterday. I broke down and told him I planned to go out with a few overseer bodies, and something about that snapped him back to me."

Matt swallowed and quietly said, "She was going too, and I didn't want to be alone. I didn't even realize how withdrawn I'd gotten, but Anna pulled me back. I'd probably be insane if she hadn't been there."

Natalie wrapped her arms around Matt and held him tightly. There were tears in her eyes as she murmured, "You're free now, both of you. Thank you, Anna for keeping strong and keeping Matt sane."

Anna smiled with tears in her own eyes, "Keeping him going was what kept me going. I would have crumbled long before now if he hadn't been there."

Lance shook his head and let out a long sigh, "Well, we're all back together now. We should probably get some rest. Natz, there's a trundle bed beneath your bed that Anna can use; it should already have sheets on it. Matt, you can sleep in my room or here on the couch, your choice."

"Anything is better than hard stone, so I'll take the couch," Matt replied with a shrug.

Lance nodded and tossed the throw blanket over, "Then you can use this. Good night, everyone."

With that, the gunner stood up and headed down the hall. Natalie and Anna stood up, leaving Matt sitting on the sofa. But before they could get very far, a hand caught Anna's wrist, and Matt tugged the young woman back into a tight hug.

"Thanks for everything, Anna," Matt murmured.

Anna pulled back and smiled at him, "Of course. Will you be okay out here alone? I mean, I know we're all just down the hall, but I don't want you to panic."

Natalie frowned, "She has a point. You sure you don't want to crash with Lance? His bed is big enough for it."

Matt hesitated before shrugging, "I don't want to bother him." To his confusion, Natalie let out an amused snort. "What?"

Natalie's response was to turn and call down the hall, "Hey, Lance? Matt wants to stay with you after all."

Lance's muffled voice called back, "Sure, whatever." He poked his head out of his room and added, "Plenty of space."

Matt took a step back, shaking his head, "No, no. I'm fine."

"He doesn't want to bug you," Anna explained.

To Matt and Anna's confusion, Lance rolled his eyes with a sigh while Natalie giggled.

"For the love of, it's just like Natz all over again," Lance muttered.

Natalie's eyes twinkled as she chuckled, "I thought it seemed familiar." She turned to Matt and said in a gentle, but firm voice, "Lance doesn't mind helping with whatever you need. I tried the same thing when I got here, and he told me flat out that I'm his friend, not a burden or a bother. You'll upset him if you insist that you're a pain, so you might as well go."

Matt hesitated for a moment before nodding, "Okay then."

He and Lance vanished into the gunner's room and shut the door, leaving Anna and Natalie standing in the hall. The two women soon turned for the mage's room where they pulled out the trundle and flopped into bed. Anna let out a sigh of bliss at the soft mattress and sheets. She listened to Natalie shuffle around until she was comfortable before falling still. But despite the comfort, the ranger couldn't sleep yet; her mind was whirling from the events of the day.

"Lance seems more laid back than before," Anna commented.

Natalie rolled over and said, "Yeah, he is. I think being alone made him more placid. We're a lot more important to him than we thought."

Anna blinked in confusion, "How do you figure?"

"Well, he told me flat out for one thing. Losing all of us was really hard on him," Natalie replied with a sigh. "He's got that old photo of us after we beat Godcat framed on his bedside table. He told me that we're his family, and that he used to worry about his place in it, but found out that change doesn't necessarily mean anything bad."

Anna hummed thoughtfully, "By change, I'll assume you mean me? He always seemed afraid of me for some reason."

Natalie chuckled, "You're sharp. But, yes, he thought you would replace him on the team, and worried that Matt and I were going to ask him to leave. I don't think his social skills back then allowed him to realize that you can add more friends."

"That's… kind of upsetting to hear," Anna murmured in a distressed tone. "He thought I was going to oust him?"

"He used to, but not anymore," Natalie assured her. She smiled over at Anna and added, "You should try sitting and talking with him some time. He's really witty and funny. Of course, his perverted streak is still going strong, but it adds to his charm."

"You crushing on Lance now?" Anna asked in amusement.

Natalie snorted, "Hardly. He's a good friend, and fun to be around, but I don't love him like that. My heart is still set on Matt."

Anna's eyes widened at the blatant admission of her crush on the blond. "Well, well, you seem to have grown a spine," she said slyly with a grin.

"Oh, shut it," Natalie chuckled. Her face took on an uncertain look as she asked, "How did Matt react to my whoring?"

"He was upset, but not at you, I don't think," Anna replied immediately. She grinned and added, "He seemed a little jealous, actually. I think he likes you back, but is too slow to realize it."

Natalie blew out a long sigh of relief, "That's good. I was worried that maybe he'd think I was disgusting, or something."

Anna shook her head slightly, "No, Matt doesn't really think like most other guys do. Some men might think your stint as a woman for hire means you're a slut, but he doesn't. If you decided you wanted to sleep around, have one night stands, or whatever, then he'd be hurt because you didn't seem to like him, but he wouldn't think less of you for it. It is your body and life, after all."

"Yeah, that's true," Natalie agree with a smile. "He's always wondered why women are so restricted in everything from fighting to their personal lives. That's part of what I like about him."

"Well maybe _you_ should ask _him_ out instead of waiting for him to do it," Anna suggested with a smile.

Natalie blushed and mumbled, "Lance said something like that, too, but I don't know if I could manage that. I don't even have any money to speak of, anyway."

Anna shrugged and snuggled down in her blanket, "Well, keep it in mind. You don't need to pay for a date, though. Just take a walk somewhere nice, or something." Her voice was growing slow as she finally felt sleep over take her.

Natalie noticed that and smiled faintly, "I'll think about it. G'night, Anna."

 **OOOOOO**

Matt woke slowly the next morning, wrapped in soft warmth with light falling on his face. He rolled over to escape the bright light and ducked his head under the blanket with a sleepy sigh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so comfortable. His mind slowly reminded him of the events of the day before: his and Anna's rescue from the mines. He gave a sleepy smile as he realized he hadn't dreamed that up. He thought about getting up to check and be sure, but was way too comfortable to bother. Still, a faint scratching sound amidst a few rustles of paper had him sitting up after all. He looked around the room with a yawn and his eyes fell on Lance.

The gunner was seated at his desk with a small stack of papers in front of him and a pen in hand. He wore a loose white T-shirt and a pair of baggy pants. A glass sat not far from his right hand, half full of orange juice. He glanced around when he heard Matt get up, and nodded a greeting.

"'Morning," Lance said. He turned back to what he was working on as he asked, "How're you feeling?"

Matt grinned, "Awesome, of course." He wandered over to stand beside Lance and cocked his head at the papers, "What're you working on?"

Lance made a face as he scrawled a few numbers down on a page in a notebook and replied, "Paying bills. Owning a house sucks; I miss camping in the nearest cave. A cave doesn't' charge you to stay there."

"It also doesn't come with electricity, heating, and running water," Matt reminded with a grin.

"Technically, a person could bring a generator along," Lance replied. He sighed as he reached for a separate notebook, and muttered, "I'm going to need to get a few more contracts."

Matt frowned and asked, "Are you out of cash?"

Lance shook his head, "No, I'm pretty good right now, but you and Anna are going to need some new clothes which will cost a lot in one go, and buying more food will add up over time."

"Sorry," Matt murmured.

"Nah, it's no big deal," Lance said lightly.

"Is there anyway Anna or I could help?" Matt offered.

Lance was silent for a moment as he scrawled a few figures down and dated them before replying. "Anna won't be able to find much in the way of work," Lance said in a level tone. He glanced around and added, "You might be able to, but anything you'd be good at you can't do until we replace some of your equipment."

Matt scowled, "Yeah, they took all of my and Anna's stuff when they found us."

"So you two ended up here together?" Lance asked curiously, stacking his papers.

Matt nodded, "Yeah, we wound up in the middle of some road, from what we were told. Both of us were unconscious, and they just carted us off. We woke up in the yard of that mine and were told to start digging."

"Which I'm sure neither of you agreed to," Lance guessed with a smirk.

Matt grinned back, "Something like that. We may or may not have attacked the guards and gotten tased. That went on for a few days until they got sick of us and threw us down where you found us. Not sure how long that was, though."

Lance shook his head and said, "From the records Natz found, you both were in the mines for just shy of six and a half months." He stuck the papers he'd been working on away with a sigh and murmured, "I'm sorry we didn't find you guys sooner. Until ten days ago, I wasn't even sure you and Anna were here. Hell, two weeks ago, and I thought Natz wasn't here, either, and she'd spent that time servicing whoever bought her."

"You did find us and got us out, and that's what matters," Matt said firmly. He clasped Lance's shoulder and said, "What happened to all of us was not your fault, okay?"

"I guess so," Lance reluctantly agreed. He stood up when Matt removed his hand, and said in a brighter tone, "How about some breakfast?"

Matt beamed, "Sounds like a great plan to me. What's on the menu?"

"Smells like eggs of some sort and sausage," Lance mused with a glance at the door.

Lance led the way out into the hall where they each smelled the delicious smell of cooking food. They could hear the sizzling sound of fat cooking, and a few clatters from the kitchen. The pair headed down the hall and peered into the kitchen to see Natalie shoveling food onto several plates, Anna was already seated at the table, scarfing down a piece of toast.

"Hey guys, you're just in time, grab a plate," Natalie greeted, turning the stove off.

Matt cheered and snatched one of the three plates sitting on the counter and all but ran for the other seat at the table. Lance snorted at the familiar enthusiasm as he gathered his plate up and hopped up to sit on the counter. He made a mental note to get a couple more chairs for the table as he watched Anna relinquish her seat for Natalie to use, her plate already empty. He nodded to Anna as she leaned against the counter across from him, and shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth.

Anna watched Lance eat, studying his expression. The gunner looked content as he listened to Matt complimenting Natalie's cooking. The ranger didn't think she'd ever seen him so relaxed before, and mused that Natalie was right about the team's importance to Lance. She smiled and shook her head slightly when Lance shot her a questioning look for her scrutiny.

"Nothing, just lost in thought," Anna told him cheerfully.

Lance shrugged, and picked up the last piece of bacon on his plate and popped it in his mouth. He slid off the counter and moved to place his dish in the sink. He turned to ask Anna if she'd do the dishes, but was distracted by a knock on the front door. He sighed as he recognized the slight pattern to the knock and moved to open it. It was an assassin with a contract for him, which while a good thing, as he needed the money, was also disappointing because he'd wanted to spend time with his friends. Still, he opened the door and greeted the non-descript man on the other side, recognizing the usual trusted runner for the organization.

Anna followed Lance to the front room, but couldn't see who was at the door. She was puzzled at the lack of any words being exchanged before Lance shut the door. Her eyes fell on an envelope in his hands and she asked, "Who was that?"

Lance glanced up and replied, "Just a guy delivering a new contract. I'll probably be out of the house for a few days getting it done."

Anna nodded and followed Lance to the sitting room, and sat down the sofa to watch him open the envelope. The gunner's eyes scanned the information on the papers inside, swiftly taking in the location and name of his target. His lips pursed as he paused on one line for some reason, but soon shrugged and went on. Finally, he nodded to himself and promptly tossed the papers and folder into his fireplace and burned them. The gunner got up and stretched before turning to face the kitchen.

"Hey, Natz?" Lance called.

Natalie poked her head around the corner with a smile and said, "What's up?"

"I've got a new mission. I was thinking you could take Matt and Anna out to get them some new clothes, and maybe swing by the grocers to get some more food," Lance replied.

"Sure, is there a budget on the spending?" Natalie asked, coming around to lean on the wall.

Lance hesitated for a few moments before nodding, "Probably should. I still have to pay the electricity bill for the month. Don't spend more than five hundred and we should be fine. I'll drop the check off for the bill on my way out, and we should have about two thousand in savings."

"Cutting it kind of fine, aren't you?" Natalie asked with a frown.

Lance shrugged, "I'll be getting a lot from this one. Downside is I'll be gone for a while. There's some setup they want done to make the death look like an accident. Faking the circumstances always takes time."

Matt walked out of the kitchen and flopped next to Anna before asking, "Who's the hit?"

"You really think I'm going to tell you that?" Lance asked in an amused tone with an arched brow. "I probably shouldn't even be telling you I'm heading off to kill someone. Just keep an eye on the news and I'm sure you'll figure out."

With that, Lance headed down to his room to get ready to leave. Matt watched him go with a frown, prompting Natalie to ask what was wrong.

"I'm just wondering how okay Lance is with assassinating people," Matt said quietly. "It's a very different thing to kill someone in cold blood, after all."

Natalie hesitated before replying, "He holds up fine, but he doesn't like it. He likened his killing to my whoring."

Anna shook her head with a sigh and murmured, "He probably sees it as a degeneration of his ideals. He likes fighting, but taking someone out without even giving them a chance to fight back probably goes against his beliefs, or moral code, or whatever."

Their conversation cut off when Lance came back in dressed in entirely casual attire: A simple pair of jeans, sneakers, and a loose T-shirt under a jacket. He had his Adventure Pouch tied to his belt and waved before heading for the door. Anna arched a brow at his lack of any weapon on him, to which Lance merely tugged his right sleeve up slightly to reveal a spring loaded blade against his wrist. He also added that he could get a weapon ready from his Pouch in about three seconds. He waved to the others and slipped off into the garage. A few moments later and there was a whirring sound, and then Lance was gone.

"Nice of him to cover the bills, but I'd like to help," Matt murmured.

Anna glanced at him, "Why don't you, then?"

Natalie was the one who responded, "He doesn't have a weapon, and Matt doesn't know any crafts. Plus I highly doubt either of you want to go back to digging."

"Definitely not," Matt agreed with a shiver.

Anna turned a thoughtful look at the front door and mused, "I bet I could be an assassin. I'd need a bow, of course, but I can make those."

"Assuming they'll take women as fighters," Natalie muttered bitterly.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So, yeah, not dead, yet. :P I was hoping to be done with the next chapter of _ The Long Road Home _by now, but I actually haven't written much at all, anywhere. I blame passing depression and school. Still, I have bits of stories and works to toss out while crying my way (not literally) through another writer's block. So here I am again._

 _Anyway, this is another story fragment, but most likely not one that will go anywhere. Similar themes used here pop up all over my writing, though, so maybe I should consider it a fleshing out of details in my head. Either way, I just don't have the ideas to finish it/flesh it out, so it is, as of right now, dead in the file hierarchy. This one is fairly old - though I can't really date it in relation to anything - and was written during a transition in my writing style. Please excuse the sloppy sentence structure from figuring out how to write compound sentences properly. XD_

The Long Road Home _Chapter 10 is in the works, and I'm adding a sentence or so to it a day. Fingers crossed that I get it done before April 7, because 12 months is an atrocious upload speed, even for me. :P_

 _Leave me some reviews, and I'll be back as soon as I can!_

 ** _Responses to Guest Reviewers:_**

 ** _Anonymous:_** _W_ _ell, she has saved the world thrice by this point. If she isn't epic-level, then something isn't right. XD_

 ** _Little Follower:_** _Ah, yes, that one was don_ _e during m efforts to really get battling descriptions down. :P It turned a little more psychotic than I typically write, though.  
_

 _I think I've finally got description down, now, actually. I've written some things I honestly think are quality stuff. I'll try to upload one of my more recent works soon. They're just on my iPad, which, as I've mentioned before, I can't do much for posting from there. Plus I've got to weed out the explicit things from the normal things. Or maybe I'll finally give FF the finger and upload some lemons again. They aren't PWP, for the most part, so I doubt it'd be a huge issue. Maybe._

 _As for when I first started writing: The short answer is late June of 2015, when I started writing_ An Epic Retelling, _so a little under two years. The long answer is very long, but I'll write it down anyway. Who knows: maybe you or other people will find it interesting, or inspirational, or ironic, or something? I don't know. If nothing else, I'll be able to look back at it and remember this point in time._ :) _The_ A/Ns _work pretty well for me as a journal of my writing career/journey._

 _My first efforts were actually made back in late elementary school some 10 to 12 years ago, but I got a poor response from some of my family and dropped it for a long time. I'm not sure if that point in my life could really be called the start of real writing, though. Still, what I wrote then was of a similar tone to the things I'm writing now, if not as eloquent, and in an entirely different fandom. I highly doubt I have the things from back then, anymore, unless my parents printed it and saved it. What started burning the super-long fuse on my current writing was when I got really into reading fanfiction and watching anime in high school. I started having tons of ideas floating around in my head about alternative endings to plots, what-ifs, better romances, motivations behind characters' actions and philosophies, and so on. Still, I didn't really start writing until late into community college. I have what my family says is a low self-esteem, and I was too shy to write, and figured I'd suck at it. :P It didn't help that I had no idea where or how to start, what fandom to write in, whether to do OCs or not, etc. It also didn't help that school basically conditioned me to hate anything involving putting words on a page. There was too much uncertainty and pre-existing resentment, and I ended up basically shutting the door on myself for several more years. Still, the idea teased me. My brothers all write, so why couldn't I do it, too? Then I played EBF4 (again), and I thought "Well, here are a bunch of vanilla characters, and a bare-bones plot. I could do a novelization, first. That'll save me the trouble of coming up with characters and their designs and skills, a world, and a story. There isn't much written there, yet, either. That saves me from having to live up to some masterpiece already posted." And that was the start of_ An Epic Retelling _. I had a skeleton to build around, and I really took off to the point where it kind of was almost really mine at the end. Sure, it was a huge mess of poor grammar, structure, typos, and could really benefit from being re-written, but it was a phenomenal first effort, and people really liked it. I ended up loving writing, even if I wasn't as polished or good as I could be, and I just kept going and going. And now here I am today, with a modest following of wonderful people who like my works, far improved skills, and lots of ideas._ (^w^)

 _The response from my fans is what really fed the spark, though. I highly doubt I would be where I am now if I hadn't gotten such positive feedback on my first posted story. Sure, I picked a quiet, niche fandom, hoping to get some slack for being one of the few who knew the games and tried to add to the fandom. I very likely would have dropped writing entirely and stuck to lurking on other people's stories, rather than trying to make my own. But my family was very encouraging, and the first few strangers who noticed me were equally so. It's strange, looking back, to think that even one troll could have cut me down early on, and I might never have written anything ever again. I was so unsure that even one negative review would have been enough to scare me away. That didn't happen, though, and it's because of people like you, and **LoveDoctor0037** , **WriteyouCleverGirl,** **Sylveon0902** , **Shadowpulse160** , and so many others who keep bolstering my self-opinions up, even when I was seriously putting myself down, and perhaps justifiably so, or perhaps not. My earlier works are certainly filled with flaws, but they were learning experiences. I'm never lying, or faking, or kissing up to my reviewers when I say I appreciate them. Without you and them, I wouldn't be an authoress.  
_

 _...And, wow, now I feel like a doof for dumping my entire writing-life story on you. XD I also think I got way off point, too, haha. Also, if the long, personal story didn't answer your concern, then, no you weren't being intrusive at all. XD_

 ** _Ham-Chan:_** _First off, I love your_ _penname. XD Thank you for reviewing my story, and I hope you'll be back again in the future! As for the androids, I can't say the idea has never crossed my mind. I haven't written anything for it, yet, but I've considered it. I likely wouldn't do the entire team, but maybe one or two of them. A couple ideas floating around are: Lance replaces himself as a joke to see if they notice he's turned into an android, and, in a similar vein, Lance is replaced by an android, and has to save the team from evil-android-him because they didn't notice any difference. Still, I'll keep the idea of all of them as androids filed away. Who knows: maybe I'll get my writing life together enough to do a story like that? :P  
_

 ** _Guest:_** _W_ _hile I'm_ pretty _sure I haven't written Lance going berserk, yet, I have written combat things centered around him. Anna's technically already shown her scary side in Retribution with Gaia Power, though I have a couple dozen things where she does combat or takes people down in chilling ways._ _I like to write for_ the LAnna ship. :3


	8. Underground (Rated M)

**WARNINGS:** NSFW, Sex, Sexual Themes, Sexual Situations, Language

 _ **A/N:** I'm still not sure I want to post this, since I said there would be no more sex-stuff, but I'm proud of the writing in it. _(-_-;) _The sex isn't really the main part, but it is a major focus; basically, it's porn with a plot. It's also_ **REALLY** _long, even if it's not finished and likely never will be finished._ _  
_

* * *

Natalie nervously chewed on her lower lip as she was left behind in the small, three room, apartment-like housing facility, and locked in. The place was simply furnished and well-stocked, though there was nothing for entertainment. Not that she was surprised about that, given what she was there for. It all fit into the program she'd been born in to.

No, what made her nervous were all the little details she found in the space that confirmed what she already knew: the large bed meant for two, the two chairs at the dining table, the love seat, the two sinks in the sole bathroom. All of it pointed to the fact that she was about to meet her chosen partner who would be her mated match, her only real contact, her lover... and the sire of any and all of her children... for the first time in her life. He would have been carefully selected from a stock of breeding males to best enhance humanity's genetics, just as she had been one of the chosen stock from the breeding females.

It was so much easier to think of everything in terms of genetic progress and animal husbandry, rather than two humans being forced to fuck. Both were the same, in essence, anyway. Not that it quelled her nerves at all.

He would probably be passably okay to look at, at the very least. Attractive features were sought after and selected in all breeding stock, while deformities and displeasing traits were weeded out. But behavior and compatibility of personalities weren't taken into consideration when pairing the stock off, and she'd heard horror stories from some of the older females sent to train them in what was to be expected. What if he was crude and mean? What if he was boring and only wanted to eat, breed, and sleep? What if he was condescending, or expected her to do everything he asked and everything around their small home? What if he was physically violent? Reproduction was expected of them, and generally consenting, but not always. What if he tore into her like some sort of starved, sex-crazed animal? He'd be stronger than her for sure. She'd been selected for magical talent, which meant her partner would be physically strong in hopes of a balanced-positive offspring. But while her magic was dampened by inhibitors in the walls, he would be free to use his full strength. There would be no chance in fighting back.

A beeping sound broke through Natalie's anxious thoughts, signaling that he was here. The door swung open and clicked shut followed by a quiet sigh, out of sight down the tiny hall before the kitchen-dining-seating area. Natalie braced herself as quiet footsteps came down the hall, and she held her breath as he rounded the corner only to freeze when their eyes met—cerulean to sapphire—both sets wide with unease, nerves, and scrutiny.

He was tall—taller than her by more than a head—and broad shouldered. His hair was long and golden blond, falling past his shoulders with bangs covering his forehead and half of his large, sapphire eyes. Pale red lips were partially parted, only slightly darker than his lightly tan skin, and she could just see white teeth. A firm jaw and straight nose offset the otherwise feminine features of his face. His clothing was one of three standard male garbs, consisting of a black shirt with long sleeves and dark gray pants.

Natalie shook herself out of her stupor when she saw a light flush rising on his cheeks, and realized that she'd been staring. Her own cheeks heated with embarrassment as she pulled her cerulean eyes to the side. "Nice to meet you," she whispered, feeling awkward. "My name's Natalie."

"Matt," he slowly replied in a quiet tenor. "Nice to meet you, too."

His eyes had returned to staring at Natalie as soon as he was sure she wouldn't notice. She was beautiful, even if the drab clothing she wore did nothing to accentuate her lovely hourglass shape. Her cheekbones were high, but not overly prominent, giving her a sort of regal beauty. A splash of freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, which was just slightly upturned. Her eyes were a little lighter of blue than his own, but glittered in the light with an ever so slight green hue around the pupils, and were almond shaped. Her lips were full and a soft pink, though he noted that she'd been chewing on them, as they were a little swollen. He coughed as he tore his gaze away from the lips that he suddenly and desperately wanted to kiss, and back up to her eyes.

When he'd been told he was to be paired off with a magic adept, he'd expected a reedy woman with a pronounced head and buggy eyes—or something like that, anyway. Never had he imagined that he'd be sent to a goddess among men. He wished he looked half as good as she did. Now he just hoped she wouldn't make him feel like a blundering, ham-handed idiot. His hands tucked behind his back self-consciously, as though she'd notice how much bigger they were than hers and would start making unfavorable conclusions.

"So, um, do you want to eat?" he asked for lack of anything else to say.

Natalie shrugged, clearly having no idea how to handle things now, either. How did one address the elephant in the room that was what they were expected to be doing? Her eyes drifted across the room, taking in the lack of anything to do again, and her flush increased. Yup. The only entertainment around involved the two of them with zero clothes on, and zero distance between them. Not that he looked inclined to start ravishing her right away. How rapidly her thoughts had changed so that she now felt a faint twinge of disappointment race through her at the thought. She wondered if he thought she wasn't pretty enough to jump right into that.

Or, maybe, she mused as she caught him staring at her and he flushed and tore his eyes away, maybe he was just as shy as she was. If that was the case, then dinner would be as fine a way to break the ice as anything else available. They could talk, connect, and maybe not feel like complete strangers boning for giggles.

"Sure, let's do dinner," Natalie agreed as she turned her eyes to the small kitchen corner.

Everything for two people was crammed into the space, from a small stove and oven, to a freezer-fridge combination and a microwave. The sink was set just to the side of a small dishwasher, and she supposed the cabinets held their dishes and utensils. There was only a tiny space available for actually preparing food, however, she noted with a frown. They'd have to take turns making meals—assuming Matt could cook at all, of course.

"Well, here goes nothing," Natalie murmured under her breath as she began poking through the cabinets and fridge to take stock and decide what they'd be eating.

Matt hovered a short distance away, unsure of what he should be doing. His purpose was quickly made clear when he saw Natalie open a cabinet filled with glasses, plates, and bowls before she moved on in her search to find the spices, and he stepped forwards to retrieve a few dishes.

"I'll set the table," he offered, earning him a smile from Natalie that made his heart skip a beat.

How strange, to be feeling something like that for a woman he'd only known for fifteen minutes. Maybe he was just a sucker for pretty women. Or maybe it was a sign that things would be okay. Or that this was destined to be. Or...

...Or maybe he should quit thinking so much, and actually set the table.

The next ten minutes passed quietly, filled with the sounds of clinking dishes, spoons scraping on pots and bowls, and bubbling water. Ten minutes after that, and they were seated across from each other with plates of spaghetti and a warmed jar of sauce. They ate in silence for a little while, both stealing glances at one another when they thought the other person wasn't looking.

Finally, Natalie broke the silence. "What's your favorite color?"

Matt blinked in surprise with a forkful of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth at the sudden question. He slurped up the food and swallowed it before answering, "Blue, like my eyes. Or maybe gold. Both, I guess. Yours?"

"I've always liked red," Natalie admitted as she twirled her fork on her plate. Her next words were muffled around a mouthful of food as she added, "I had a red blanket that was my favorite for years until it wore through and they disposed of it. Plus red reminds me of my fire-magic lessons before they cut me off from my mana."

Matt nodded. "There was this sword with an awesome golden hilt hanging on the wall of the instructors' dojo. I, uh... borrowed... it for a little while and it swung like a dream. I think it's why I like the color gold so much."

"So you can use a sword?" Natalie asked, leaning forwards in curiosity. "I've never seen someone use a sword before."

"I'll show you someday," Matt promised. His face fell as he glanced around their small quarters and quietly added, "Assuming we're ever allowed out of here. I don't like being trapped."

Natalie nodded somberly. "Me, either. Maybe a fantastical group opposing compounds like this one will come along and we'll be set free." Her words were sarcastic, but her tone was wistfully hopeful. "What would you do if you were free?"

Matt grinned and his eyes gleamed with excitement. "I'd gather the coolest swords that could be found and I'd use them to beat up the bad guys and find lots of gold!"

Natalie smiled at his almost childish enthusiasm. She leaned back in thought when his eyes expectantly gleamed and he gestured with his fork for what she would do. "Let's see..." she hummed thoughtfully before her eyes brightened. "I'd learn all I could about magic and no one would ever be able to force me to do anything I didn't want to do! And I'd get a cat. I like cats."

Matt laughed, though the sound was a little forced. "Things you're forced to do... Including me?"

Natalie's cheeks flushed and she awkwardly opened her mouth to refuse his claim, but shut it again a few seconds later without a sound. Several moments passed in silence before she mumbled. "It's nothing personal, Matt. You're a handsome guy, and you seem pretty nice, but... I don't think either of us would have chosen to do this if we had the choice. I mean, all I really know about you is that your favorite colors are blue and gold, you like swords, and you hate being trapped. Not exactly life-long bond material, you know?"

Matt relaxed slightly even as he nodded. "True. Do you want to wait before... that? We could spend a few days just getting to know each other so that we won't feel like near-complete strangers when the time comes?"

A warm smile graced Natalie's lips at his generous offer. To think she'd ever thought he would be mean and forceful. "I'm not sure it'll make much difference either way, but if you don't mind, I'd like to get to know you better, first."

Matt blew out a sigh of relief. "Good, because so do I." He turned his eyes back to his food and a light of mischievous humor lit them. "First thing to discover... Who can clear their plate the fastest!"

Natalie's laugh rang through the space alongside his before both were muffled as they began rapidly shoving spaghetti in their mouths. Matt beat Natalie handily, even stealing some of hers from her plate despite her laughing efforts to stop him. By the end, both their faces were messy from splattered sauce and their cheeks were pink from laughter. Cleanup of the dishes was a simple task as they had no leftovers and had a dishwasher, and they took turns in the bathroom washing up before meeting again beside the bed.

Matt tugged his shirt off and the sheets back before flopping onto the right side of the mattress, then turned to face the wall, giving Natalie privacy to change into a nightgown. He felt her settle onto the opposite side of the bed and slide under the sheets. There were a few rustles as they got comfortable before they let out matching sighs.

"Goodnight, Matt."

"G'night, Natalie."

Sleep didn't come easily for either of them, however. Despite hitting it off well together, neither one was comfortable sharing the same bed. But the only other option was for one of them to squeeze onto the tiny love seat—which only Natalie would be physically able to do—and there were no extra blankets in the space, and it was just a little too cool to comfortably sleep without blankets.

Still, both eventually managed to drift off, and they fell into dreamless sleeps. During the night, Matt began rolling himself into the blankets, stealing them from Natalie, who shivered in her sleep. Her hand groped around for a corner of the sheets and yanked on them when she found them, stealing back enough to curl up under, and she sank a little closer to the source of warmth that came with the blanket. A half hour later, and the process was repeated... and repeated again... and again... until they were flush against each other and there was no more struggle. Matt had the blankets, as did Natalie, and they both let out unaware sighs of content at the newly acquired space heaters they'd found in each other. The rest of the night passed in peace.

Matt woke first to the embarrassing, yet strangely comfortable, situation of having Natalie's cheek pressed against his chest and his arm over her back. He blinked in stupefaction at the fact, knowing he'd been careful to leave as much space between them as possible last night. The common sense side of his brain told him to let her go before she woke up and got mad at him. The sleepily-content, it's-too-early-for-moving, side of his brain told him she was warm, and that it was a mutual embrace since she had her own arm over his waist, too. The latter side won, and he shut his sleepy eyes and tucked his face into her hair, letting her faint vanilla scent and comfortable warmth lull him back to sleep. She'd definitely notice that it was mutual when she woke up, right?

Sort of.

Natalie came awake to find that Matt was asleep and that they were definitely not on opposite sides of the bed. Her first response was to squeak and try to break away from him, only to find that his grip over her waist tightened and he mumbled in protest before snuggling even closer. The actions, although making it clear she wasn't escaping, caused her to giggle. She wouldn't have pegged him last night as a cuddler. Then she amended the thought as she noticed her arm was over his own waist. She never would have pegged herself for a cuddler, either.

"It's kinda nice, really," she mused to herself as she let her eyes half shut and studied his sleeping expression. A small smile ghosted at his lips when she quit trying to break away, and he mumbled something that sounded vaguely like 'muffins'. "He's cute when he's asleep."

Natalie didn't know how long she lay there for, waiting for Matt to wake up while watching his face. An hour could have passed, or more, but she was content to lie there until he woke up. Her heart was beating a little fast and she had a light blush still staining her cheeks, but she was happy in a way she couldn't recall feeling before.

"Natalie...?" Matt suddenly mumbled.

His eyes were sleepily blinking in confusion at her, clearly not entirely awake, and his arm remained holding her close. It was an intimate position, not that he was really thinking of that. Not until she moved to bring her face towards his.

Natalie slid her lips over Matt's. The affection seemed entirely natural to do—welcome, even. Morning was a dangerous time for her desires in the first place, and he was a beautiful sight to wake up to, and all hers. Matt had stiffened slightly at first, but quickly relaxed again as a small moan rumbled from his throat and he began kissing back. The hand resting against her lower back rose up to tangle in her hair and press her closer as his mouth opened to let his tongue slide across her lips. An eager tongue darted out to lick at his before teasingly retreating, and he followed it into her mouth. She tasted sweet and tangy, like a fruity dessert.

"Strawberries," Matt muzzily decided as he languidly traced the inside of Natalie's mouth.

His head tilted for a better angle as he sought more of her to taste while his head spun. A lack of air that forced both of them to part sooner than either of them wanted. Natalie's eyes were dark from excitement when they fluttered open to look up at the fierce gaze staring down at her. He was propped up over her face by his arms while his legs remained off to one side, and his sleep-tangled hair was pushed over one shoulder. When they had moved, she had no idea, but she couldn't deny a pleasant heat coiling in her core at the way Matt's eyes darkened as he stared at her.

Without warning, Matt ducked back in for another kiss, hungrily demanding entrance back into her mouth. A muffled moan from Natalie granted him permission and his tongue frantically swirled around her own before gently rubbing against it. Arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing his bare chest flush against her covered one. A groan vibrated through her mouth at the contact, and the coil in her stomach drew a little tighter while her veins heated with desire.

A burning hand landed on her outer thigh, pushing the fabric of her nightdress up until stopping at her hip. Matt broke the kiss for more air as Natalie let out a breathless whine of disappointment. Now he was completely over her on all fours with one hand on her thigh. It took more effort to pull his mind together enough to speak than Matt was willing to admit. Even once he got his mind sort of on reason's side, his throat was tight enough to try and choke his words off. Still, he needed to know this before continuing.

"Just to be sure, we aren't waiting a few days?" he asked in a husky rasp.

"Change of plans," Natalie breathed back. The leg he wasn't holding moved to hook around his waist and pull him down against her core. "We've got all the time in the world to talk, right? But right now, I need you."

Matt's grin flashed in the dim light coming through the covered window. That was the answer he'd been hoping for. It was time to start figuring out what made Natalie's body tic. And for once, the idea didn't make him tighten up with nerves or start stuttering from embarrassment, and it didn't make him despair that this was all he had in his life now. Maybe it was because of the fact that she so obviously welcomed his touch, maybe it was just the arousal clouding his mind, or maybe it was just that near-instant affection and attraction he had for her. Whatever the reason, he was glad she was here with him, like this, now.

Lips found a spot to start exploring on Natalie's shoulder, and she tilted her head to grant him more room to play with. Every second more that he spent touching her fanned the flames beginning to boil her blood. The sensation of his mouth moved a little higher to her neck and she moaned as he found a sensitive spot just below her ear. Teeth gently nipped and nibbled on the spot followed by his tongue licking it, seeing what actions she liked the most. She could only guess how she would feel by the end if he was this meticulous in learning all of her body.

Now if only she could return the favor...

Her fingers hesitantly rose to brush up against Matt's chest and she felt him shiver at the contact. This was new ground for her too, but while Matt seemed to have taken to exploring like a duck took to water, she was unsure of where to go or what to do. A part of her had always dreaded this moment, resenting that all she would ever be was a breeding stock bitch. Yet somehow with Matt, she wanted to be and do more. She wanted to make him feel good like he was for her. She wanted this to be something they both enjoyed doing so that it wouldn't feel like some kind of chore they were being forced to do.

His lack of any kind of vocal or real physical response was discouraging, though. All that really changed as she traced his muscles and rubbed his nipples was that he swapped what side of her neck he was lathing attention on. Natalie bit her lower lip in a mixture of upset and a failed attempt to muffle another moan when he began sucking on her skin again. Her fingers pressed a little harder against him and she moved to his ribs.

Matt abruptly pulled away from her neck with a choked laugh. "Hey, don't tickle me!"

Natalie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and tears welled in her eyes. Any and all feelings of arousal faded and she began looking for some way to escape. Matt was still over her, though, caging her in; the only way out would be to push him off. So she did.

A pair of hands shoving at his chest brought Matt's smile up short, and he quickly moved off of Natalie. His eyes were wide with confusion and concern as she rolled off the bed and darted out of the room without a word. A door shutting told him she'd fled to the bathroom. Everything had been going fine, so why would she want to leave now? Had he hurt her somehow? But she'd been moaning only moments before... Maybe he'd pushed her into sex and her mind had finally caught up? That was possible, he mused. He must have missed the signs while his own mind had been someplace else as he'd enjoyed her noises and taste and the feather light touches she'd been giving him. What if those touches had been the sign that she wanted to stop? Granted, rubbing his nipples was a confusing way to say she didn't want more. That couldn't be it, then.

So then what? Give her space, he supposed. Not that they had a lot of that to give. If he was allowed outside, then he'd leave in an instant to make her feel better, but procedure was that neither of them were granted permission to use other facilities until he'd gotten her pregnant. An apology maybe? It couldn't hurt to start there at least.

Matt stood off the bed and awkwardly glanced down at the tent he was pitching. That would have to go before he spoke with her. He considered working himself off, but Natalie was in the bathroom, so he wouldn't be able to wash away the evidence, and the kitchen sink was right out for sex play—not as long as they wanted to use it for food, anyway. A cold shower was also out, as was any kind of real physical exercise. That left willing it away.

He groaned in disappointment, but sat back down and focused his mind on anything and everything that disgusted him. Not on heavenly curves, or vanilla scent, or ripe strawberry taste, and definitely not on sweet moans and lustful words, or...

"Bad Matt," he scolded himself with a blush. "Quit thinking about Natalie like that." She wasn't ready and working himself further into sexual frustration wouldn't help either of them. Even if she looked perfect under him with her soft hair spilled across the sheets like wine...

And he was really going nowhere, wasn't he?

A different red-head popped into his mind—thankfully safe from sexual fantasies, too. Lance, his friend from the barracks, was definitely not anywhere on his to-do list. Even the thought of it made his skin crawl... and his crotch ache as he imagined Lance would probably kick him in the soft spot for even putting sex, Matt, and Lance into the same thought process. Matt snorted out a laugh at the thought of Lance's retribution. He hoped the other man had ended up with someone half as pretty as Natalie. Even if he could be a prickly bastard and he joked about sex and women all the time, Matt knew Lance was his friend, and bitter towards being made to do anything—even if the thing he was doing was a pretty woman.

He could almost hear Lance's glare burrowing into the back of his head for these thoughts. Still, his arousal also was gone, so it was time to apologize. Food would help that along. Everyone loved food, after all, right?

So Matt stood up again and dressed for the day, finding his clothes in the bottom two drawers of the single dresser he and Natalie were expected to share. He tossed his slightly soiled pants and underwear into the laundry basket in the small closet and finger combed his hair to lie mostly flat—whether the attempt to tame the hair was successful was impossible to know without a mirror, though. Still, it would do for now, and he quietly padded past the closed bathroom door.

"Pancakes," Matt decided aloud ten minutes later after he'd dug through their supplies. They had a box of pancake mix, after all, and a large frying pan. "Oo, there's even a small thing of syrup in here..."

Soon he was mixing the powder together in a bowl with a couple of eggs and some milk, and melting butter to grease the pan heating on the stove. Once the sizzling pan was hot enough, he carefully poured the batter into the pan to start the first pancake. While waiting for the food to cook, he poked around for some kind of sausage or bacon, but was disappointed to find none. Instead, he brought out a few more eggs to scramble and set them aside for later.

It didn't take long for the delicious smell of cooking food to fill the air. Matt hummed as he flipped his third pancake off the pan and onto the forming stack on a plate before adding more batter. He'd just finished the fourth and final one when he heard the bathroom door open and Natalie come down the hall. Neither of them said anything for the moment as Matt cracked the eggs into the pan and began cooking them.

Natalie stood in the short hall leading to the bedroom and bathroom, watching Matt cook. Her eyes were miserable as she realized how stupid she'd been while he'd managed to pull himself together enough to make breakfast. And he was making up two plates. At least that probably meant he wasn't mad at her. Still, she tensed when he finally turned the stove off and turned around to set their food down at the table before silently meeting her eyes. It didn't take long for her own eyes to guiltily drift to the side.

"Hungry?" he offered quietly.

Natalie nodded and all but slunk over to her chair. Matt said nothing as he drizzled syrup on his pancakes before sliding the container across the table for her. Breakfast was a quiet, tense affair.

"I'm sorry for pushing you," Matt suddenly said. He glanced up at Natalie before pulling his eyes back to his food. "I should have known better than to think you wanted that, yet, after you'd said you wanted to wait a few days."

The woman paused in pushing her remaining food around on her plate at his unexpected apology. Her eyes rose up to blink in confusion at Matt, who was now studiously avoiding her gaze. "It wasn't your fault," she murmured. "I just... didn't know what to do."

"Didn't know what to do?" Matt repeated in confusion.

Natalie's blush was back as she ducked her head and mumbled. "I didn't know how to make you feel as good as you were making me feel. I wasn't trying to tickle you."

And just like that, Matt's shoulders relaxed as realization washed over him. It was sort of his fault, but not in the way that he had imagined. Laughing was definitely the wrong thing to do here, just as it had been earlier, but he really wanted to laugh in relief. "I promise I was feeling plenty good. My sides are just sensitive is all. You couldn't have known, but now you do."

"You were so... quiet... though," Natalie pressed even as her blush grew darker. "I didn't think you were enjoying it at all. And I was being so loud..."

That caused a blush to rise on Matt's cheeks both from embarrassment and at the image from that morning she conjured up. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and squeaked, "I guess I'm just not a very vocal lover? I was definitely enjoying you- it- the moment. And, um..." His cheeks were burning as he watched Natalie arch an amused brow at his attempt to recover from the obvious admittance of lust for her. This situation needed something else to smooth it over, and so he blurted out, "You were just so hot when you were-"

His hand slapped over his face at the completely unhelpful addition. "Stupid mouth, we're trying to not look like an idiot after her boobs," he mentally growled at himself. His other hand rose up to help hide his face as he found himself imagining what her boobs looked and felt like. "Alright, so maybe I am an idiot who might partially be after her boobs, but she doesn't need to know that! Besides, she deserves a better relationship than that!"

Natalie giggled as she watched Matt slouch down in his chair with his face hidden by his hands. Yeah, she'd scored big time in the life partner department. This man was the most endearing, adorable, awkward and lovable person she'd ever met. And he'd unconsciously settled a number of her biggest fears about her appearance and performance.

"I'm glad you think I'm hot," Natalie teased. "You're pretty sexy yourself."

"Stop..." Matt moaned as he shoved his plate away to hide his face in his arms on the table.

Natalie took pity on him and shoved the last bit of her scrambled eggs into her mouth. "The food was excellent, Matt. Thank you."

Finally, a safe topic. "We were taught to make simple foods," he admitted. "I only really like making the breakfast stuff, though. Even that spaghetti last night was way better than any of my attempts at cooking dinner foods. But we don't have any bacon! How the hell can they stick us in a tiny house with no bacon?!"

Natalie leaned her cheek on one hand as she watched Matt pout about the lack of available bacon before he began all but rambling, seemingly at random, about whatever came to his mind. So maybe all she knew about him was that his favorite colors were gold and blue, that he liked swords, breakfast, and bacon, and that he hated being trapped, and was a cuddler in bed. He was a sweet, cheerful young man who was already looking out for her, even when she was being confusing, and thought she was beautiful. And she was learning more about him all the time as she added cats to the growing list of things she knew he liked, and broccoli to the list of things he hated, curtesy of Matt's continued talking.

And in that moment, Natalie knew she would do anything and everything in her power to set him free from this life. A person as good and kind as Matt could only do the world good. And just maybe he'd take her with him when he left. Now, how to get him out... Already different plans were swimming through her mind as she rapidly weighed what could be done or not before settling on the most likely one.

"...Natalie?"

The call of her name started Natalie out of her thoughts and she realized that she'd been staring at him. Her face broke into a smile at his obvious concern for her, which he quickly returned.

"Sorry, just thinking," Natalie promised as she stood up to begin clearing the table. She shook her head when he moved to help, and pushed him back down into his chair. "No, no, you made the meal, so I'll clean it up."

Matt's smile softened as he nodded and settled back down to watch Natalie quickly and efficiently stack the dirty plates. She was smiling as she worked, and the sight filled him with a warm, happy feeling. She was delicate and graceful, but there was a sort of underlying strength to her that he was really beginning to appreciate. After all, how many people would be so open to admitting what had bugged them during such an intimate act as foreplay—especially when that foreplay had ended on such a sour note? He'd been fully willing to take the blame for what had gone wrong, but she'd refused to let it lie at that and instead helped them work towards the truth. And both of them felt much better for it, he could tell. She'd lost the hesitant air that had been about her for most of the time since he'd met her the night before, and seemed content and happy.

"I'm glad the morning turned out the way it did," Matt suddenly said aloud.

Natalie glanced over her shoulder from where she was just finishing stacking the dishes in the washer. "Yeah?" she replied, though her eyes told him she knew what he meant.

"Yeah, this was much better for us," Matt firmly stated as he gestured between them.

"Well then let's take this slow," Natalie decided. It worked for her own plan, too. Plus, she was looking forwards to spending more time just being around Matt.

And so the rest of the day and several days after were spent sitting on the love seat or lying in bed together, just getting to know one another. Both people knew this tender stage wouldn't last long, either because they would grow bored of just talking, or because the overseers would start demanding they copulate, but for the moment they were happy. Natalie had laughed at Matt's numerous stories from the barracks and how much trouble he'd gotten into and up to with his friend, Lance. Her own stories were boring by comparison, involving rigorous magic study and practice and a strict code for behavior the women were expected to follow.

"Wow," Matt murmured as Natalie described the heavy social conditioning and punishments imposed on the women, including being singled out for public humiliation, corporeal punishments, being assigned to the worst chores, and, in more extreme cases, solitary confinement. "I mean, we were told our partners were going to be fairly submissive, but I didn't realize that was because they make you women behave that way. Although, you don't exactly act like a door mat."

Natalie shrugged with a glum expression. "Well, it worked better on some than on others. I and a few others got tossed into solitary several times for refusing to participate in the lectures on 'how to please my man', among other things." She grinned up at Matt and added, "Maybe I should have paid attention to that section a little more, though, eh?"

Matt laughed and tossed an arm around her shoulders to give them a squeeze. "Maybe, but it all worked out for the best. I've never even heard of solitary confinement, though. The men were usually left to sort their own problems out, after all. What was it like?"

Natalie's eyes darkened as her smile faded and she turned her face forwards again. "They lock you in a tiny room all by yourself with nothing in it but a toilet, and leave you there for varying amounts of time from a few hours to a few days. The lights never go off, the temperature is too cold to be comfortable, and there's nothing to do to distract yourself. It's a kind of deprivation torture."

Matt's brow furrowed and his arm tightened around Natalie as she shivered from the memories. "That's awful... I can't imagine it's good for your health, either."

"Relatively speaking, it wasn't so bad for me," Natalie murmured. "I'm a mage, so meditation was something I practiced and was comfortable with, and I did that whenever I got thrown in. The result was that solitary never really had much of an effect on me. Some of the other women, though... they'd start screaming to be let out after a day or two, and they were never quite the same afterwards. Rumors were always flying around that some of the women who were in for a long time suicided. The whispers were never confirmed, but... well, I never thought a human could sound so broken before I heard them scream. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them did choose death to get out."

A kiss pressing against her temple started Natalie out of her dark memories and musings, and she raised a hand to brush away the tears that had begun to trickle down her cheeks. Matt returned her wobbly smile and shifted to let her cuddle down against his side. His fingers moved to run through her hair and she let out a shuddering sigh, fully relaxing.

"Sorry, that was pretty heavy to suddenly lay on you," Natalie breathed. She felt Matt shake his head.

"It's fine. You probably needed to get that out, anyway. I'm sorry you had to suffer through it." He rested his cheek against her hair and swore in a quiet but firm voice, "Nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Not while I'm here."

"Thank you..." Natalie whispered as she shut her eyes.

Before long, her breathing grew heavy and evened out as she drifted off to sleep against his side. And when she woke up, she was lying in their bed with Matt curled behind her, holding her close. She flushed slightly as she discovered his hand possessively holding one of her breasts, but at the same time was delighted at the touch. He likely didn't even know he was doing it, either. Still, she tucked her head back to worm her way under his chin and smiled in content. Who knew how and when normal people were supposed to love, but she wouldn't trade this for the world.

"Comfy?" Matt's husky voice suddenly asked.

Natalie started and choked out a moan as he kneaded her breast through the fabric of her shirt. So much for him being asleep. Or maybe he'd woken up at her movements. Either way, she wanted more, and he seemed just as eager to deliver as he had the last time.

In a twist of movement, he had rolled onto his back, pulling her up to rest on his chest and stomach while his hand continued molding her breast. His other hand trailed over her hip to grasp the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her covered core, and she arched into his touch with another moan, louder than before.

The noise seemed to embolden Matt, who's fingers began to grow more eager, pressing and rubbing anywhere they landed, and tugging at her clothes. She could feel his erection pressing into her lower back, and she wriggled against it, trying to arouse him further. It worked, and in a flash he had her pinned to the bed with her shirt torn clean off. She gazed up at him with wanton eyes, watching as he took in her naked chest for several moments, admiring her breasts. The hunger in his eyes made her own hunger for him grow, and she arched with another moan to encourage him to continue. His lips descended on her breasts, kissing a blazing path across her skin to a nipple which he fiercely sucked into his mouth to tease with his tongue. His fingers toyed with the neglected nipple, rolling and lightly pinching it before he licked and kissed his way across the valley between her boobs to swap treatments.

Natalie's hands entangled in his hair, pushing him down into her chest as she arched up into his mouth. She needed more contact, needed more from him, and soon her fingers were pulling at his pants, trying to get her message across. Unfortunately, she hadn't factored in that Matt needed to quit his attentions on her chest to remove his and her pants, and she let out a disapproving whine when he pulled away. But then he came back, this time with feather light touches on her clit that had her all but wailing for more. She bucked into his fingers, grinding herself on his hand before he pulled it away to let her grind on his cock. And the moan and thrust back that action got her was more than enough incentive to do it again.

Neither one was expecting it when it happened between their feverish grinds, touches, and moans, but suddenly, Matt slid into Natalie's core. The woman arched with a sharp cry while Matt pressed his forehead into her shoulder with a muffled, groaning curse. She was almost painfully tight around him, and burning hot, and he was sure that if he moved even an inch, then he'd come on the spot. A whimper from Natalie easily distracted him, however.

"Are you okay?" Matt gasped out as he carefully peeled himself off her body while keeping his hips in place.

Natalie's face was pinched from pain and surprise and her eyes were squeezed shut. Still, she nodded her head and managed to say, "I just wasn't ready for it, is all. Give me a minute."

"That makes two of us," Matt joked with a tight laugh. "Next time, we plan the entrance."

Natalie's lips quirked in a smile. "Jokes now of all times? Really?"

"I'm a funny guy."

That earned him one heated eye peeling open to glare in amusement at him. "No, you're a dummy who doesn't even know where his dick is until it's too late," she dryly informed him, though her amused smile took any sting out of her words.

The banter had the added effect of helping her relax, and she carefully canted her hips up against his. The friction had Matt's head dropping back to her shoulder with another moaned curse, and a flash of heat racing through her body again. She moaned as she bucked up with more force, cajoling him into finally thrusting. The first one stole Natalie's breath away. The second one gave her breath back to gasp. The third and all the rest had her moaning and crying out.

Matt was groaning as he dug his fingers into her hips to pull her into his thrusts. His eyes drank in the sight of her thrashing underneath him, a vision of wanton lust and desire. And when he felt her inner walls shudder around his cock in the beginning of a climax, he hauled her up into his arms to seal their lips together and swallowed her cries of release before breaking the connection to cry out his own. His hips moved in uneven, jarring thrusts as he spilled his seed deep inside of her body.

Natalie's dazed pants and moans were briefly broken by a huff when Matt collapsed on top of her. She could feel him twitching in her core as he pumped the last of his seed into her. His heated breath washed across her chest as he gasped for air and she could feel his heart thundering behind his ribs. That had been the most amazing thing she'd ever been involved in. And when he finally rolled off of her and linked the fingers of his right hand through the fingers of her left and smiled a dazed smile at her, she felt loved—even if the ache of after-sex was setting in and she could feel their combined fluids slipping out of her.

"Would it be strange to say I love you?" she whispered.

Matt, who had been drifting off as exhaustion really hit, managed to peel his eyes open halfway. "Mm, love you, too," he mumbled with a tired smile.

He sluggishly helped kick the soiled top sheet off the bed and cuddled close to his lover under the lighter bottom sheet as their bodies cooled. It was the first time they purposefully cuddled in bed for sleep, and he felt a tender something slide into place in his heart as she brushed a kiss across his lips before settling down.

Natalie remained awake for a little longer after him, watching him sleep and rubbing her free fingers against her stomach. She was probably going to get pregnant from this, as the overseers would want. She and Matt would stay together for the pregnancy and be at it again after the child was born, if it was healthy. The thought was a daunting one. The pains of labor aside, she wasn't sure she was ready, or even wanted, to be a mother. Not that she'd have charge of the child for long. Children were moved to communal nurseries just a few weeks after birth to prevent bonding. Already a dormant maternal side of her was rebelling against the thought, though she had no choice in the matter.

Of course, she may not have gotten pregnant yet at all. They wouldn't know for sure for several weeks, or until the overseers hauled her off for a physical to check. So she should enjoy her life with Matt while she could and worry about the future when it came. Besides, being hauled away was part of the plan she'd concocted. Hopefully Matt, as equally eager for freedom as she was, could help, and maybe they could rally some more aid from his friend, Lance. It was uncommon for people to openly oppose and question the practices as she and they had. Most people accepted this as the norm, understanding that with so few humans left, offspring needed to be carefully planned and accounted for.

Not her. She wanted to see the sun of the world above—even if the land was ravaged and dangerous—not the simulated light that lit the caverns. She wanted to feel real wind, and see animals and monsters, and places like she'd read about in her books. She wanted to give Matt the chance to pursue his dream of collecting swords and gold. Besides, they'd never been given proof that there were no other colonies left outside. Surely the little pocket of survivors that she and Matt came from couldn't be the last? And even if they were, what kind of life was this, living in a giant cage like animals, concerned only about survival? And if the key to freedom and hope was linked to the results of what she and Matt had just done, then she'd have as many children as it took.

Natalie nodded firmly and shut her eyes as she nestled even closer to her lover. Everything would be worth the chance to set them free.

A loud knock woke the pair the next morning, and Matt jolted upright in surprise while Natalie yawned and stretched before blinking sleepily at him in confusion. In a flash, he remembered what they'd done last night, and his face split in a silly grin. Then a new voice echoed through their quarters, and he twisted to look at the door leading to the main room. Natalie sat up beside him, drawing the sheets up to cover her body with a resigned look in her eyes.

"Come on, Natalie, let's go!"

Matt shot a baffled look at Natalie as she muttered under her breath about the hour. "Go? Where are we going?"

"To see if we succeeded last night," Natalie murmured. She called back down the hall at a second, more impatient call of her name. "I'll be right out. Let me get dressed."

Matt's expression fell as he was forced to let Natalie out of bed. Her cheeks were already flushed from embarrassment and she looked depressed. Still, he stood up as well and followed her motions of dressing. They stepped out of the room to see two men standing by the table, their expectant eyes fixed on Natalie. Matt bristled at the stares and possessively slid closer to her.

"Matt stays here," one man ordered. "No unauthorized men in the women's ward."

"I go with her, or she doesn't go," Matt shot back before Natalie could respond.

Natalie laid a hand on his arm when she saw the guards' hands drift for their stun batons. "It'll be fine, Matt. I'll be right back, alright?" she soothed.

"Of course she will," the second guard growled. "It's protocol to return her here. Now back away from her, or else."

Natalie stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to Matt's cheek and gave him a final smile before turning to head out the door with the guards behind her. The barrier clicked shut and locked, leaving Matt alone in the space, staring forlornly at the door.

He didn't rouse from his stare for almost a half hour. A grumble from his stomach was what finally got him moving, and he made himself a breakfast of toast, eggs, and juice. It didn't taste as good by himself, and everything was too quiet. After that, he tried to patiently wait in the love seat for Natalie to come back. Never had one person meant so much to him, and she'd been pulled away with barely any explanation and no promise of when she'd be returned. Hours passed as he maintained a dedicated stare on the door.

And the hours slowly stacked until night came again, with no sign of Natalie's return. Matt had taken to nervously chewing on his thumbnail as he bounced his foot on the floor. More hours passed and the artificial light from the small window faded to emulate dusk, and he glumly realized she wasn't coming back today.

Returning to the bed without having her to share it with him just seemed wrong, so instead Matt showered and returned to the sofa with a spare comforter he found in their closet, and the pillow Natalie used. He made a mental note to remake their bed since he'd deposited their laundry and bed sheets into the chute to be cleaned. He wrapped the comforter around his shoulders and tucked himself into a corner of the sofa with Natalie's pillow in his arms.

"Lance would laugh his butt off if he saw me doing this," Matt sighed to himself, more to have some sort of noise than anything else. "Pining for one woman after less than twenty-four hours apart? Yeah, that would set him off."

He wondered how Lance was doing, what his partner looked and was like. He wondered where Natalie was and if she missed him as much as he was missing her. Had she gotten badly injured? That was unlikely. He'd have been retrieved and cycled on to a new partner if that were the case. It was a cold comfort, but comfort none the less, and he drifted off to an uneasy, uncomfortable sleep on the sofa.

Two more days passed like that and Matt felt like he was going to go insane with no news or company. He likened this isolation to the solitary confinement Natalie had spoken of. Would it really have killed them to let him know something about how she was doing or why she was taking so long? Then, miraculously, the door clicked open and there she was, looking irritated with her bodyguards, but healthy and alive.

Natalie's entire face lit up when she spied Matt staring at her and she darted forwards with a happy cry into his hug. Neither one paid any attention to the departure of the guards, wrapped up as they were in being reunited. Natalie had tears in her eyes and she felt Matt trembling as he clung to her with surprising desperation. Three days was far too long to not see each other.

"I missed you," Matt whispered. "I thought you were hurt, or never coming back, or... or..."

Natalie pulled back enough to press a sweet kiss to his lips. "I'd never leave you alone forever," she promised. "They took a long time on the tests because apparently implantation can take a few days to occur." Matt made a confused face at the term, and she explained, "Whether or not I'm pregnant or not can take a few days to discover."

"Oh..." Matt breathed. He vaguely remembered one of his teachers from the barracks talking about that during his education on reproduction. Then his face settled into a scowl. "If they know that, then why not wait until a few days have passed before checking? What's the point of making me worry so much?" Then her words sank in and he gazed at her, "Wait... so are you...?"

Natalie glanced to the side in tense shyness. "Congratulations?"

His face split into a bright smile, "Yeah, congratulations to you, too. You'll make a wonderful mom."

"I'm not so sure about that," Natalie uneasily laughed, unsure of how to point out that she wouldn't be in charge of any of their children. She stepped back, letting Matt's hands fall to her hips and smiled up at him. "We're allowed outside now that there's no chance of 'contamination in the breed'," her voice took on a sarcastic imitation of the documentary phrase before softening again. "Want to get washed up and then see if we can find your friend?"

Matt didn't need asking twice. In a flash, he was hauling Natalie to the bathroom for their shower, refusing to let go of her for even a second. His world was back to right with Natalie beside him and he couldn't wait to share a shower with her. Yet as soon as they were under the spray, Natalie's face fell into a seriousness he'd never seen from her before.

"Matt, I need to tell you something and you have to swear you won't tell anyone else, ever."

"Of course," Matt agreed in an instant, though his eyes had become uneasy. "What's up?"

"I'm not really pregnant."

It took a few moments before that sank in, and then Matt's jaw dropped. "Wait, what? Then why...?"

Natalie covered his lips with one hand while making an urgent gesture with the other to keep his voice down. "They're recording us at all times, but it's only audio in here, and they won't hear it over the water." At Matt's nod, she pulled away her hand and started explaining. "I've got a plan to get out of here, and I need my mana to do it. The only way I'll be able to use my magic is if we're allowed out of these quarters. If I were actually pregnant, I wouldn't want to use my mana for fear of harming the child, but I came up negative all three days. So I tampered with the reports to make them think I'm pregnant, even though I'm not."

"Oo, Natalie, you're a naughty girl," Matt play-scolded with an amused gleam in his eyes. "They would get so mad if they found out..."

"Which is why it needs to stay a secret," Natalie agreed with a smile. "The ruse won't last forever, not once I'm supposed to start showing, so we need to be out of here by then."

Matt frowned at that. "You've mentioned leaving twice now. How would we get out? And where would we go? They control the entire tunnel system, and the surface is a disaster area, right?"

Natalie shook her head with a grim expression. "I think the idea that the surface is wasteland is a complete lie. I've read some books that clearly talk about places you could never find underground. Huge jungles, giant mountain ranges, vast oceans, plains as far as the eye can see... There has to be something up there. Plus why would they guard the insides of all the supposed exits to the surface? Shouldn't they be guarding the outsides of the gates if there are potentially dangerous monsters out there?"

Matt's frown deepened. "You're right, that is odd..."

"And they're using a lot of scare tactics to keep people controlled down here. Like locking up women who speak out, or letting men beat each other into pulps as peer pressure... or keeping me away for several days and not letting you know what was happening. That was their way of subtly threatening that I'm theirs, not yours, and I can be taken away at any time, in case you tried to be a problem later."

In the next second, Matt was kissing Natalie, clutching her to him with their bodies pressed flush together. His eyes were fierce when he pulled back. "Well no more. I don't care what they say or try, you're staying with me, and that's that. So what's the plan to bust out?"

"We need your friend, Lance," Natalie started, though it was hard to get her thoughts back in order after the kiss. It didn't help that she could acutely feel his hands rubbing her skin. Whether he was cleaning her or pleasuring her, she had no idea.

"Lance? Why him? I mean, he'd probably love to get out of here, and I'd be really happy to take him with us, but..." His fingers continued to massage her sides, both to slick them with soap and to try and make her break down into pleading for more.

"One of, ah, one of your stories..." Natalie managed to get out between moans. "He... fried the security... camera in your room? Oh, gods, Matt, stop it..."

Matt merely chuckled as he leaned forwards to nibble on her wet ear. "Go on," he purred without a hint of apology.

But Natalie had had enough of his teasing. She reached out, wrapped her fingers around his cock, and tugged on it. As she'd hoped, the motion had Matt pressing her up against the cool tile of the shower wall. His cock slid into her body to immediately begin a brutal pace, forcing her feet off the floor every few thrusts. Natalie looped her arms around his neck and arched with a cry of delight, loving every second of the sex.

Yet for some reason, Matt stopped and pulled out just as she was about to climax.

"Mattt..." Natalie whined. "Why'd you stop?"

"Do you want to actually get pregnant?" Matt asked pointedly.

She might have been flattered at his care and remembering that risk, if he hadn't already been too late and denied her wild pleasure. Instead, she scowled at him and turned her back to reach for the soap.

"For your information, I'm protected, now," Natalie huffed. "You couldn't get me pregnant if you fucked me all night, and never mind that the 'pulling out' idea is complete bologna. Did you sleep through your sex-ed class?"

Matt didn't hear her grumbled complaints past the first couple of sentences. Instead, his blood roared at the idea of pounding into her nonstop for hours. He'd never manage that long, of course, but he'd be damned if he didn't try.

"All night? I like the sound of that..."

"Not anymore, you don't," Natalie told him blandly. She shot a grumpy look at him over her shoulder. "You get to stew and think about what you did for the rest of the night."

"Or didn't do," Matt muttered under his breath. He fixed a sour look on Natalie's back when she ignored him. "I was just looking out for you. Why punish me for that?"

"I'm not punishing you, I'm pointing out that I don't need you making my decisions for me," Natalie shot back coolly as she shampooed her hair. "I'm perfectly aware of the risks of having unprotected sex, and it's an insult to insinuate that I don't know or don't care."

"But I wasn't thinking anything like that!" Matt protested. "You're not being fair."

Natalie snorted at his complaint before saying. "Life isn't really all that fair, Matt."

His eyes narrowed in frustration and anger at her blasé dismissal before he reigned himself in. She'd just gotten back, after all, and he didn't want to fight with her. Besides, it was her body, and if she didn't want to share it, then that was her choice. Even if it meant she'd brought the count for blue-balling him up to two, and even if her getting pregnant from his kid was technically his problem, too.

Or maybe this was a sign that she was bored of him? Could that really happen that fast? She'd seemed so happy to see him when she'd walked in...

Somewhere in his musings, he'd finished washing and had dried himself off. Natalie had remained silent as well, and soon they were sitting across the table from each other with simple sandwiches in hand.

"...So what did you need Lance for specifically?" Matt finally asked in a low tone.

"It's not important right now," Natalie calmly replied. "We can talk it over with him later." Her eyes slid meaningfully up to the tiny camera in the corner of the room.

Matt nodded imperceptibly as he said, "It'll be cool to see him again after so long. It's been almost two years, now."

"Two years? You talked about him like you'd only just been split up." Natalie hoped that didn't mean Lance wouldn't care to help.

"Nah, he got paired off sooner than me since I was the troublemaker. I wonder if he still goes to the shooting range? They used to haul the guys in the barracks down there once a week, and he always got super excited for it. Of course, he might have different interests now that he's a little more free."

Gods help them, Natalie prayed uneasily. She needed an expert in mischief-making, and Lance had already shown he could take out a security camera with little more than a razor blade and a flattened screw—and that had been when he was only eight. But if he hadn't bothered to go back and make contact with Matt, then maybe he wouldn't want to help... She'd just have to improvise if that happened. Matt certainly still deserved the surface far more than being stuck here.

"Well, let's go find him. If nothing else, it'll be nice to stretch our legs."

Matt nodded as he stood up and followed Natalie to the door. And once he had his boots on, he leaned over to press a kiss to Natalie's cheek, only to have her pull away with a warning look and a reiteration of her earlier demands. Matt withdrew with a frustrated and upset expression, but said nothing as he followed her out, and made extra pains to avoid even touching her. Misery lurked in his eyes as his earlier fears began to rise. Still, he said nothing.

The streets they walked through were carved out of stone, and worn from generations of feet using them. The ceiling of the massive cavern arched high over head with light coming from many hidden pockets in the stone and carefully reflected to appear almost entirely smooth and acted as their simulation day-night cycle. Lamps made from glowing crystals twinkled every few feet, already shining in the late afternoon light. There were small stores here and there for general goods and food, a pet store with cats, birds, and dogs in the windows, and a tavern that was just reaching peak serving hour. A fountain gurgled in the center of a circular square with a worn statue as its focal point of the person who'd founded and headed the building of the underground community. It had stood there for so long, however, that the finer features of his face had worn almost completely smooth. A small garden of glowing, but harmless fungus and other flora stretched around the base of the fountain with a couple of benches for people to rest on.

"So... shooting range first?" Natalie asked. She glanced back when Matt didn't respond only to see him watching his feet. "Matt? Is everything alright?"

"Sure."

The short and almost angry reply brought Natalie up short. "Do you want to do this tomorrow?" she offered hesitantly, unsure of what was wrong.

"No. It'll be nice to see him after so long. He's my best friend, and I've missed him." He didn't add that it would be nice to have someone be happy to see him, and wouldn't demand that their normal interactions were temporarily banned over ridiculous reasons. Lance could get really mad, sure, but he never did it without good reason.

Natalie still hesitated, but was forced to trot to keep up when Matt resumed walking ahead. Was the problem her refusing a kiss? Or maybe the entire issue from the shower in general? It had seemed fair to her, given that Matt didn't even realize he was making her decisions for her, so she needed to be blunt about the issue. Plus it was only for one night, but he was taking it very badly. Then again, hadn't she read somewhere that most men hated being told they couldn't have sex?

A cacophony of bullets being fired abruptly interrupted her thoughts, and she jumped slightly. Matt still plowed ahead, walking straight for a large building made of sheet metal. He pushed his way inside, pausing only long enough to ensure Natalie was still with him. Once inside, he gestured to a rack of earmuffs and picked one up to put on and waited for her to follow his lead. With their hearing properly muffled and protected, they stepped into the range proper to see a long line of men and women, bearing various kinds of firearms, lined up and taking shots. Matt's eyes were hopeful as he scanned across the shooters before brightening as he spied who he was looking for.

A tall man at the very far end of the range had a large rifle braced against his shoulder as he took rapid but careful aim. His face was thrown into stark relief as he fired and a wave of bullets showered forth. At the end of the volley, he propped his gun at his feet and peered at a target out of sight down the range, judging his accuracy and precision before pursing his lips and lifting his weapon to try again. His hair was just above shoulder length and a dark red, his skin was pale, and he had the lean build of a runner. His clothing was all black, he had a cold expression, and every shooter in the range knew better than to get close and pester him.

Not that that stopped Matt and Natalie from traipsing up to him to wait for him to finish as he fired another round. Natalie's eyes widened in surprise at the impressive level of shooting with an automatic rifle. His bullets had some scatter to them, of course, but for the most part they stayed in the center ring and bullseye. Still, he seemed disgusted with his performance and moved to raise his gun again, until Matt tapped his shoulder.

Lance's shoulders heaved in a long-suffering sigh that they couldn't hear before he flipped the safety on on his rifle before he set it down. Then he craned his neck to scowl at whoever was pestering him, only to have instant recognition widen his eyes before a rare smile spread on his face. He cheerfully returned the fist-bump gesture Matt offered before making vague gestures that he'd be out right away. His eyes glanced curiously at Natalie, but he didn't seem overly surprised to see her. It was likely fairly obvious to anyone just who and what she was to Matt. So he merely nodded to her before turning the opposite way to stash his weapon in a locker while the pair headed back out.

Though none of them had really noticed, the other shooters had paused in their practice to stare at the exchange, having never seen Lance greet anyone that readily and happily. Anyone aside from his partner, anyway. Still, a glare from him as he passed to follow his guests had them turning back to their targets, and the phenomena was quickly forgotten.

"Well, well, if it isn't the doofus," Lance smirked as he stepped into the lobby area to greet Matt properly. "How's life been treating you?"

"Probably better than it has you, jerk," Matt fondly replied. His smile widened as he added, "It's great to see you again."

"I suppose two years is about the limit on my escape from you," Lance mock-sighed. His eyes turned to Natalie and he added, "He got lucky, I see. What's your name?"

Natalie started at actually being addressed directly. Typically, the female partners were introduced by the male, seen and not heard, or generally kept out of sight and mind. The egalitarian greeting, despite his and Matt's strange but admittedly fond interactions, simply reinforced what Matt had told her of him.

"Natalie, Matt's partner, as you've probably guessed. We've been paired for a little over three weeks."

"Only three weeks and you've already got one past the goalie? And you called me a perv," Lance joked.

His smile faded some when Matt merely shrugged and didn't reply. If Matt was being quiet, and wasn't in the process of eating or sleeping, then something was probably wrong, and if he followed to past form, then asking directly wouldn't yield any answers. If there was anything Lance knew about Matt, it was that the blond was excellent with other peoples' problems, but had no clue how to properly express his own, and would bend over backwards to accommodate everyone but himself. The behavior had earned him a lot of friends back in the day, and had made him an excellent mediator for fights and arguments not involving him, but it frequently made him miserable until someone directly—whether on purpose or by accident—pointed out what his issue was. Then he quickly righted his views and carried on as cheerful as always.

Lance had those thoughts in about half a second and he glanced at Natalie as he assumed she was likely related to the problem. Matt couldn't have been loose from initial confinement for long, or they would have met up already. That meant his only real contact would have been with Natalie, who likely had no clue what she'd done, if she was even aware that something was wrong. Still, he cleared his throat and changed topics.

"Come on, I want Anna to meet you," Lance offered with a half smile. "She'll kill me if I come back and tell her I ran into you, but didn't bring you by."

"So her name's Anna, huh?" Matt asked, coming back out of his shell. "How's it been with her? What's she like?"

"A stubborn pain in the butt, but I love her for it," Lance replied with a fond and gentle gleam in his eyes. "We had a rocky start, but things are going smoothly now. I wouldn't trade her for the world."

"Glad to hear it," Matt stated, though Lance detected a subtle, glum undertone to his voice.

He decided to press on that.

"How've things been for you two? I realize it's only been a couple of weeks, but are either you thinking you'll have to throttle the other? Outside of bedroom fun, of course."

"You throttle your lover?" Natalie asked with trepidation.

"Don't take him too seriously, Natalie. He's really a big softy to the people close to him," Matt immediately assured with a roll of his eyes. "A softy with a sense of humor that didn't age with him, anyway."

"Pfft, right," Lance scoffed. Still he turned his head to look at the pair, wanting to catch their reactions. "So, how're things going?"

"Pretty well," Matt shrugged. "Natalie just got back from being checked out today and she wanted to talk to you."

Lance arched a brow at that with a sharp glance at Natalie, who was watching him with an unnervingly perceptive and measuring gaze. But whatever she wanted from him could wait. "I see. Well, I suppose it's nice that you haven't had any trouble in paradise already."

Natalie coughed, and muttered, "I don't know if I'd go that far, but nothing serious has happened." She smiled up at Matt, even if he wasn't quite looking at her. "Matt's pretty wonderful. I'm lucky to have him."

Those simple statements told Lance a lot. One, something had obviously already happened between them, and he was willing to bet that it was a fight of some sort. And it had to have been about something serious to still be bugging Matt. Two, Natalie loved Matt. Three, if the lightening of Matt's eyes and the light flush on his cheeks were any indicators, then Matt loved her, too. That was promising; it meant that it would probably be fairly easy to address what was wrong, once he'd pinpointed what 'it' was. Four, Natalie needed to be educated on how Matt typically thought and responded. And five, Natalie would be easy to exploit in figuring out what was wrong.

"What'd you fight about? His hogging the sheets all the time?" Lance lightly fished. As he'd expected, Natalie took the bait.

"Huh, well that explains the immediate cuddling at night," Natalie laughed. She glanced up at Matt with a smile, but became hesitant when he still refused to really look at her. "Without going into too much detail, we had a disagreement about him making important decisions for me."

"I'm being punished for looking out for her," Matt bitterly told Lance. "She won't even let me hold her hand or kiss her cheek until tomorrow, and never mind anything more intimate. I'll probably be stuck spending another night on the sofa, too."

But while his words sounded angry and accusatory, and would likely come across as frustrated about being denied sex, Lance caught the deep hurt, upset, and fear hidden in Matt's expression and posture. But before he could say anything to make things right for his friend, Natalie spoke.

"Another night?" Natalie repeated with a frown. "What were you doing sleeping on the sofa?"

Now that she thought about it, there had been a blanket and pillow on the love seat in their quarters. She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but his words indicated that he'd slept there while waiting for her to come back, and he'd been shaking when they'd hugged upon her return. It dawned on her that he'd probably been even more terrified than he'd let on about the idea that she was never coming back.

"It doesn't matter," Matt mumbled, back to staring at his feet. "It's just one more night."

Natalie's worry increased at his miserable voice and eyes. "Hey, you can sleep in the bed with me."

"If I may?" Lance put in dryly. He gestured at Matt with barely disguised exasperation and told Natalie, "He tends to jump to conclusions pretty easily, and he'll keep thinking his way until the truth hits him in the face like a hammer blow to tell him otherwise." His eyes moved to Matt's face and he added firmly but gently, "She's not going to dump you on the street, Matt. Even if she wanted to—which she doesn't—she can't."

"Wait, what?" Natalie asked in surprise with a crestfallen expression. "Do you really think I don't love you anymore?" A stiff shrug was his response, and she felt tears well in her eyes as she stepped forwards to wrap her arms around him. "Oh, Matt, don't think that. I didn't realize... didn't think you'd think... I'm sorry." To her relief, he immediately returned the hug, and she felt him let out a shuddering sigh.

"See, Matt?" Lance prodded. "She still loves you, you still love her, and you can get back to boning without fear." That earned him a pair of flustered glares, and he smirked again. "Now, what did you actually need from me, Natalie?"

His eyes narrowed when she pulled back from Matt and glanced around. She didn't want to be overheard for whatever she was looking for? That was unusual, to say the least. He highly doubted she'd purposefully come to a complete stranger for something about her personal life, so why would it matter who heard her? His eyes widened slightly in understanding before he gave an easy shrug.

"We can talk at my place," he informed them calmly as he turned to continue walking. He glanced meaningfully at Natalie and added, "No chance of eavesdroppers there. But just so you know: I'm not doing a foursome."

Natalie felt a huge rush of relief at his hidden message, even as she flushed at his added statement. Crass humor was an understatement with him—he seemed unable to go five minutes before making another innuendo. Still, whatever he'd done to the security in his place, he'd made it free from spying. She'd been right about him, as had Matt. Lance was a phenomenal friend for him, and knew her lover probably about as well as Matt knew himself. And he was very smart and intuitive to have so quickly nailed down what the issue between her and Matt had been without ever getting a full story. And he'd been spot on there, too, she mused as she glanced up at Matt, who was back to smiling now that he'd been reassured and could hold her hand.

Soon the group was stepping into a small home very similar to the one Matt and Natalie had been given. The only major differences were that the other couple had accumulated some knick-knacks and books, and one of them was growing flowers on a low table set in front of the sofa. Currently, however, there was a bit of a spectacle taking over much of the floor space in the form of a young woman who was sitting in the center of a messy assortment of seemingly random wires, computer chips, tools, and bits of metal. She had green hair that was tied back from her face in a ponytail, lightly tan skin, and brilliant green eyes. Her body was slender and she was significantly shorter than Lance, but had subtle curves that made her beautiful. At the moment, however, grease was smudged on her arms and face, and she looked ready to cry from relief when she saw Lance.

"You're nuts if you think I can organize this mess, much less make anything out of it," she informed him bluntly. Still, she accepted the brief kiss that he bent to give her and smiled as she added, "But then, I already knew you're completely crazy."

"Yeah, yeah," Lance grumbled. He gestured to the pair behind them and added, "Matt and his partner tracked me down, and I thought you'd like to meet them."

Anna's eyes brightened with interest as she turned them on Matt and Natalie. "So, this is the former mastermind of all your mischief? He's pretty handsome." Her mouth was twitching with amusement as she noted Lance step a little closer to her, and knew he was getting possessive again. She wiped her hands on a towel over her shoulder before holding one out to Matt. "Nice to meet you. My name's Anna."

"Matt, and this is Natalie," Matt replied as he shook Anna's hand and gestured to Natalie. His eyes moved past Anna to the mess on the floor and he asked, "What were you doing?"

A snort erupted from Anna as she nudged Lance. "This pest promised me he'd get rid of half of this crap if I sorted it into feasibly useable stuff and useless stuff. Plus, he'd only keep half of what was useable if I could make a simple light. I'm inclined to tell him it's all useless and call the trash guys to come get it."

"It's a really simple task, Anna," Lance pointed out in a tone that said they'd had this discussion before. "You're more than capable of doing it, you're just being stubborn again."

"Whatever. Sorry the place is such a disaster."

The last part was to the guests, who merely shrugged and waited as Lance and Anna worked together to pile the sundry items into large bins and shoved them into a corner past the sofa. After that, Anna vanished down the hall for a shower while Lance snagged some sodas for himself and the others. It was when he was seated on the love seat, and them on the chairs, that he turned his eyes to Natalie with curiosity.

"I've got the cameras and audio for this house disabled and re-wired to display a part of the park. So, what's up that you don't want the guys in charge hearing?"

"Matt and I want to leave the caverns," Natalie stated bluntly. "He told me about all the ways you kept yourself and him out of serious trouble as kids by messing with footage, destroying cameras, and misleading the overseers. I was hoping you know of some way to get us out without the others knowing until it's too late to find us, or if you could find a way to accomplish that."

Lance leaned back with a huff of surprise and his eyes darted to Matt. "Is she serious? I mean, sure, being here sucks in a lot of ways, but it is safe, whereas the surface is a mess. Why the hell would you want to go there?"

"Because she's brought up some good points that make us think we've all been lied to," Matt replied evenly. His eyes were pleading with Lance as he went on. "I want out of here, Lance. I want to go someplace that won't have people lording their authority over me and I can make my own decisions, good or bad. I'll never get that here—you know that. There has to be something out there that's better than this place."

"You both will get executed if they catch you. You know that, right? No one will ever know what happened to you once they've decide you're a threat. They're good at making problem people disappear," Lance pressed. When that didn't dissuade them, he tried a different tactic. "And Anna and I would be roped up in this whether you meant for that to happen or not. It'd be too much of a coincidence to have you meet up with your childhood, trouble-making friend days before you disappear. They'd search for when you were last spotted, and who you spoke with, and find me."

Matt hesitated at that. Getting Lance—and, by extension, Anna—into serious, potentially fatal, trouble wasn't something he wanted to do. He glanced at Natalie, who was frowning in consideration at Lance.

"You could come with us," Natalie offered quietly. "Matt already said he'd love to have you along."

Lance shook his head, "Traipse off into the unknown on a wild goose chase to a place you're not sure even exists, knowing you can never go back or you're dead? No thanks. I like living."

"Is living here really living, Lance?" Matt quietly asked. "From day one we're told how we're supposed to dress, think, behave, and live. The best and strongest of us are treated like pedigree dogs to be bred. We can't choose who to love, we can't say no when presented with a partner, and we're not even allowed to keep our children. And at any time, they can come along and take or destroy everything you've fooled yourself into believing is yours. I know you know all of that, and I know you'd be happier elsewhere. You know it, too. How many children do you have that you'll never know? How many times have they shown up out of the blue and hauled Anna off with no explanation for why, and no promise of when she'd be back? It isn't right. Please help and come with us."

"Come with you where?"

Lance started and glanced around to see Anna was out of the shower and moving to sit next to him. His throat was dry from having everything he already knew and had idly considered laid out in one solid argument. Anna could be taken away at any moment, especially since they were already at risk of separation, and he would never be able to protect her on his own. And he couldn't imagine trying to build this life again with a different woman, always comparing her to Anna, and pining for what had been stolen. But at least she'd still be alive somewhere if that happened. To risk both their lives on a fool's quest with just the encouragement and assurance of one woman he'd only just met that day? But what if Natalie was right and there was a place somewhere far over their heads where he could build a life with Anna that was free from fear and impossible expectations? It would be a dream come true.

"Lance?" Anna quietly questioned as he silently settled against her. He never cuddled around others. Ever.

"I... I need to talk it over with Anna," Lance mumbled. "It's a big choice, and she should definitely have a say in it."

Matt and Natalie both nodded and stood up.

"We'll come back tomorrow?" Natalie suggested.

At Lance's nod, the pair turned and left, leaving Lance and Anna seated on the love seat.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Anna turned her eyes to Lance's face. He looked incredibly torn up about whatever Matt and Natalie had come to say. His arm had come around her waist to hold her to him with a sort of muted desperation. She'd only seem him like this once, when they'd been separated for several weeks as she'd recovered from a miscarriage gone horribly wrong. All that time, he'd been terrified that she was gone forever and he was just waiting for the instructions to return to the barracks for a new partner.

"What did they want?" Anna asked in a low murmur. "Talk to me, Lance."

"They... Natalie thinks there's a good chance that the surface could be lived on, and she and Matt want to escape to try and get there. They need my expertise with the security network to get out with enough time to get away without being caught and executed."

Anna's eyes widened in shock at that and her mind immediately connected the dots for what such a plan meant for them. "But you can't do that without putting us at risk," she guessed.

"Exactly. Matt says we should go with them, but that means an uncertain future and no chance of coming back. They'd kill us if they caught us."

Anna was silent for several moments as she weighed the risks against the idea of freedom. In reality, they couldn't stay, anyway, though—at least, not together.

"As soon as they find out that the miscarriage made me unable to get pregnant, we'll be over, anyway," Anna murmured. "We can't hide it forever, after all, and then they'll make you move to someone new. And who knows where I'd end up."

Lance's face fell and his arm tightened its grasp on her waist. "I won't. I can't."

"Then I guess we go with them," Anna decided calmly. She rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, "I'd be happy as long as you're there with me. And isn't Matt the one who makes the impossible possible?"

"With someone to keep his ass out of the fire, sure," Lance agreed with a fond note to his voice. "He looked good. It's great to be able to see him again. I was worried they'd never let him out of the barracks what with all the trouble we got into."

"Too bad I had to wash up," Anna sighed, "I was looking forwards to getting to know him. But I suppose I'll have plenty of time soon. How did Natalie seem?"

Lance shrugged. "She's nice enough, but I can't say I know her all that well yet. She definitely loves Matt, though, which is good. And they must've hit it off well because she's already pregnant."

"Mm, it might be better for her to have her child before we leave," Anna quietly pointed out. Her hand clenched in her lap as she recalled her own first pregnancy. It had been terrifying, painful, and had nearly killed her. They wouldn't have the supplies or skill to care for Natalie if she had any issues.

"I'll mention that to them tomorrow," Lance agreed as his hand began to rub up and down Anna's arm when he felt her tense. "For now, though, we need to decide what we'll bring with us. Obviously food, water, and blankets. Extra clothes would be a good idea, too, and things to cook with."

"We should steal some weapons," Anna added after a few moments. "Who knows what's out there? We might need to defend ourselves. And medical supplies for if any of us get hurt or sick."

"Carrying everything is going to be a problem," Lance noted with a sigh. "I mean, there'll be four of us, but we'll need a good stockpile of food and water. Gods only know what's edible and not out there."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** A different sort of alternate, post-apocalyptic, dystopian universe. Not really action packed, and probably fairly boring to a lot of you. ___I'm sorry for all the pseudo science and genetics._ Still, it's one of my most recent works, and the best example of where my writing is currently at. I really tried to get some description in there, so let me know how it went. i.e. if there was too much, not enough, just right. Also, as usual, please point out any errors. This was written entirely on my iPad, and while I re-read, and edited the crap out of it, I'm sure I've missed something. :P  
_

 _Next up is some information to hopefully clear up some potential confusion, and to explain the rest of the world that never got written. If this stuff doesnt interest you, then please toss me a review, and carry on with your life. ;3_ _  
_

 _1.) Genders are, obviously, raised separately here, with little to no contact with each other, or information on how the other side is brought up. Like Matt knows he and Natalie would not be in charge of any of their kid(s), but he doesn't know that all contact is severed between parents and children, permanently. Natalie knows men are in charge, and assumes they're all crazy, sex-driven savages, even if that the majority of them aren't like that._

 _2.)The living units are basically small apartments, with many units to on building. Only pairs are kept in them, other, normal people get their own different accommodations depending on occupation and wealth._

 _3.) There are classes in this world, with a select few ruling over the many (definitely not elected officials; more of an oligarchy). The situation has gone on for many generations, so no one alive in the hierarchy has ever been to, or seen the surface._ _Pairs are high up the social ladder, above workers, but still far below the leaders. Working class is broken into different categories based on skill level._

 _4.) Though it wasn't ever touched on, not every person is made to reproduce in this world, only the best of each generation. Other families connect and exists as normal, though perhaps required to get permission to have children (to prevent overpopulation)._

 _5.) Lance's hacking is both mechanical and digital. He's basically a shadow in every system, able to manipulate pretty much any information in the system, which is how he and Anna are in the blink as far as their sterility problems go._

 _6.) Any knowledge any of them hold is gained through reading material and surviving turns-of-phrase. Like Lance's "_ got one past the goalie, _" or his assumption that they won't necessarily be able to find edible food, or Natalie's discovery of things such as jungles, monsters, and mountains. Knowledge isn't exactly repressed or withheld from certain classes, but it's definitely not encouraged. Like they have it available to prevent people from becoming curious about it (there's nothing like telling people "you can't see this" to make people want to see something), and to retain useful knowledge, but it definitely isn't incentivized, and most people are uninclined to go looking for it._

 _7.) It is possible for a woman to become unable to have children following a miscarriage. It's extremely rare, but sometimes scar tissue prevents an egg from implanting, which is what happened to Anna in this. The miscarriage would have happened several months before the beginning of this story, so Anna would still be considered recovering as far as the officials know, which is why they aren't pushing her and Lance to get back at it._

 ** _Responses to Guest reviewers:_**

 ** _Anonymous:_** _A ninja dressed up to look like a ninja is a pretty_ _crappy ninja. :P It would make far more sense to go casual if assassinating a person in public, like Lance would be doing. Natalie would probably make a pretty good assassin, if it weren't for the fact that she has too many morals, and is a healer. As for Brawl Royal, I'm not sure if that's included as canon, or not. I would guess not, though.  
_

 _ **Jason:** Matt and Lance would, logically, be pretty okay with sharing a bed in a platonic sense. Both spend large amounts of time in the wilderness where it's far safer to stick close together, and body heat is an important factor in places like a tundra, desert, or even just a chilly night. If it helps, though, you can imagine them using separate blankets._

 ** _Little Follower:_** _Yeah, I like mixing elements of modern tech with elements of a less developed world. That seems to be more or less how EBF's worlds are, anyway._

 _Banter will always be my favorite. Banter between Natalie and Lance is usually my favorite of my favorite. I have to consciously stop myself, or it never ends. XD_

 _As for the Name Azure Dust, and with most of my names for towns in these ficlets, I'm following the naming convention of EBF4, and somewhat EBF3. Greenwood, Goldenbrick, Whitefall, Veggie Forest, Rock Lake. I use a color and some kind of building material, or natural element, like Gray Stone in my Matt voiped to being a kid thing._

 _Yeah, I may or may not have made myself cry while writing the part in the mines. I like to make myself cry with my writing._ XD :P _I'm sorry the conversation at Lance's house afterwards seemed unnatural. I still have trouble getting flow right, even now, and back then, I was way worse._

 _As for Natalie, she chose, albeit not entirely willingly, to do prostitution. She definitely has issues seeing herself in a respectable light after that, and would almost certainly have a hard time understanding that there are people out there who would love her for more than her body. But the fact that it wasn't forced rape, and she was prepared for it would have a profoundly different impact on her mind. Furthermore, she would have the comfort of, if things really did go sour, being able to use her magic to escape. And as an asset to a "fairly reputable" brothel (if such a thing can exist), she may or may not have had some protection from "clients" on what they can or cannot do to her. Maybe. I'm not really sure what the rules are at a brothel house, but I can't imagine damaging their profits by damaging their women would go over so well._

 _Yup. Lance can adjust, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. I'm not looking forwards to transitioning from pseudo-adult to real adult, that's for sure. :P_

 ** _HackneyedTrope:_** _I will always love Deltora. I've actually been planning writing something like it, full of puzzles, and adventure, but that will have to wait. I'm sorry I've been so slow on the updates, but I have no intentions of posting chapters before they're done on stories that I intend to finish. I do a lot of my writing on my iPad, now, and FF doesn't like to load my changes. :P I have to get on my laptop to fix errors in my posted works, and I'm not normally at my laptop, anymore._

 _As for submitting my stories to Matt Roszak, I have considered it, but I always feel kinda silly sending my stuff his way-even my drawings I typically don't immediately upload and send his way-like I'm fishing for compliments. Plus, for the most part, my writing doesn't really follow the same tone of his games at all, and I dunno how he'd feel about that. :/_

 _ **Guest:** I probably won't ever write any more on that fic, ever again. Maybe somewhere else, I'll write Matt having to get a real job._


	9. Lance (Rated T)

_**Title** (tentative): Lance_

 _ **Genre** : General/Humor_

 _ **Rating** : T_

 _ **Warnings:** Language, mild sexual themes_

* * *

Matt and Natalie both looked up and around in surprise at the over-loud and haughty voice suddenly booming across the bar.

"I seek the ones named Matt and Natalie! I have been informed that they can be located in this establishment!"

The speaker was a fairly tall, well-dressed woman with long, deep red hair pulled back in a tight braid, amber eyes, and pale skin. She wore a long coat of black with red trim over a tight-fitted red shirt with a low cut, and a pair of long, leather pants. Her boots were of fine leather and stretched all the way to her knees. A pistol was slung at her waist beside a heavy fighting knife with her hand hovering near them as she scanned the murmuring crowd.

"Do we duck our heads and ignore the crazy lady?" Matt muttered sarcastically to Natalie.

"It's a nice thought, but it wouldn't work. People know us by face and name here," Natalie snorted in reply. She waved a hand and raised her voice as she called, "We're back here."

The woman's eyes shot to land on them, and she strode across the bar, parting the crowd in her wake, which had fallen silent in tense curiosity. Matt waved easily at the chair across from him, inviting the stranger to sit, though also casually placing his arm right next to where Heaven's Gate rested against his chair. The woman's lip curled ever so slightly at his offer, and she remained standing.

"What can we do for you, stranger?" Matt asked in a level voice.

"I have been told from reliable sources that you have had frequent and extended contact with Lancelot. You will tell me where to find him at once."

Matt's eyebrows flew up at the name, and he exchanged a baffled look with Natalie. "Er, I'm pretty sure we don't know anyone by the name of Lancelot."

"Do not attempt to play coy, peasant. My sources are of the highest caliber. I know you know him."

"Intel can always be wrong and at the least likely and most inconvenient of times," Natalie replied diplomatically, though her expression cooled at the calling of Matt a peasant. "Regardless, we don't know anyone named Lancelot. What's your name? We can do some asking around for the guy for you."

"My name is of no concern to a low-born milkmaid such as yourself," the woman sniffed.

"Then I guess you should quit wasting your time with us before we decide you and your rotten manners are worth our time to... correct," Matt coldly shot back, leaning forwards in a threatening manner and gripping the hilt of his sword. "We don't know any Lancelot, and we don't have any interest in being insulted. If you're intel is so good, then I'm sure you can guess why it would be very smart of you to start backtracking and apologizing for calling Natz a milkmaid right now."

"Easy, Matt, I don't want to cause any trouble for Robert's bar," Natalie soothed, though she shot an irritated look at the aggravating woman glowering at them. "Look, what does this Lancelot look like? Maybe we've seen him somewhere."

"He is tall, just shy of six feet in height, fair-skinned, auburn haired, with crimson eyes," the woman petulantly replied after several moments of silence where Natalie simply stared blandly at her and Matt scowled.

The pair's expression melted from non-recognition into confusion and then comprehension at the description.

"You mean Lance?" Matt asked in confusion. "What, did he take you out for a good time then ditch you?"

"Matt, just because Lance is a moral degenerate with women doesn't mean you should follow his example," Natalie hissed with a swift smack against his arm, reluctantly understanding the way the stranger's hand settled to grip her knife. She dipped her head apologetically to the woman. "Sorry about that. I've never heard him call himself or be called Lancelot, but we have a friend and fighting partner named Lance who matches your description. He's a bit reclusive, and can be hard to find. What did you need from him? We'll pass the message on next time we see him."

"So he is here after all," the woman murmured to herself, no longer really listening to Natalie. "At long last, I have found you, Lancelot."

"What are you looking for him for?" Matt asked in a level tone that belied his sudden, wary concern.

The woman ignored his question and demanded, "Where is he? I demand to speak with him at once!"

"We're not telling you anything about him or where he's at until you tell us what you want from him. If you can't, or won't, tell us that, then we have nothing more to say to you," Matt stated with finality. He slid his chair back and stood up. "C'mon, Natz, let's go."

Natalie silently stood and followed Matt as he wound past the tables and watching patrons, though she glanced back at the woman just before stepping outside. The sight of amber eyes directly behind her nearly caused her to jump, having never heard the woman move, even on the creaky wood floors in the silence of the bar.

"Matt," she warned softly.

"I know."

They tolerated their unwanted follower all the way to the edge of the town before Matt spun around with Heaven's Gate drawn.

"We gave you our answer, now leave us alone," he growled.

"Not until you tell me where Lancelot can be found."

"Look, even if we knew where he's holing himself up right now, we wouldn't tell you. You won't tell us why you want Lance, you insult us unprovoked, and you stalk us out of town with a weapon ready to be drawn. All of that makes you suspicious at best, and a threat to us at worst. "

The woman's nostril flared ever so slightly—the only outward sign of her aggravation. Then, surprisingly, she turned to go.

"So you do not know where he can be found. As useless as I expected a pair of commoners to be."

And without a farewell, the woman left. Matt stood straight and sheathed his sword with a dark scowl after her.

"What the hell was all that about?"

Natalie shook her head. "I have no idea, but we should probably tell Lance that there's a cranky bitch looking for him."

One corner of Matt's mouth curled upwards in amusement. "Haven't heard you call anyone a bitch in a while."

"She called me a milkmaid and you a peasant! And never mind her holier than thou attitude," Natalie huffed with her arms crossed. "I hate people like her."

Matt chuckled and turned to head for Lance's place. They'd lied when they'd told the woman about not knowing where to find Lance. The gunner typically stayed in his weapon's facility when not traveling with the team. Granted that he was out and roaming about as often as he was in, he was still actually pretty easy to find, if one knew where to look. Getting face-to-face with him was slightly more challenging.

With nothing better to do with his time, and an anti-socialism that Natalie had fondly labeled as borderline-paranoid, Lance was constantly upgrading and manufacturing new automated weapons. The production was on a much smaller scale after he'd joined the team—only one or two new models a year—but he left them active and patrolling his home to ward away monsters, solicitors, and people wanting problems solved. His reasoning, when his friends complained about getting shot at every time they came to visit, was that anyone incapable of getting past the defenses wasn't likely anyone he cared to talk to; his only concession had been to adjust the weapons' AIs to disable, not kill. It would be a pain, he'd admitted, to have to find new teammates—to which Anna had promptly joked that they should all come in for a hug, as that admission was practically an ' _I love you guys_ ' when coming from Lance.

The pair took a roundabout route across a rocky plain to Lance's factory, just in case the woman was tailing them, which took nearly a week. Dismantling Lance's sentries was a simple affair, and they entered the factory to be greeted by the now-familiar sounds of active machinery and strange beeps and whirs from monitors. Absent, however, was the typical rock music Lance listened to when working on projects.

"Huh, must not be in," Matt commented as they poked their heads through various work, store, and bedrooms. "That complicates things a bit."

"He may have gone to see Anna," Natalie suggested as they headed back for the entrance, passing new robots being automatically built on the assembly line to replace the ones they'd destroyed. "He likes going to harass her whenever we split."

"Kinda wonder why she puts up with it," Matt agreed through a laugh.

"I kind of wonder why _we_ put up with it."

"Because he's a funny, strong, intelligent, and loyal friend," Matt replied instantly. He grinned back at Natalie and added with laughter in his voice, "He probably wonders why he puts up with us, too, though."

Natalie grinned back and trotted to walk beside Matt. "True. I'm sure he still doesn't get why we don't just set random things on fire, or detonate them. And never mind why we keep stopping him from hounding every pretty girl we meet."

They both laughed as they set their sights on a distant hill where they would stop for the night one their way to Greenwood. Four days later saw them talking to Anna while she was stretching furs and leather for use before storage.

"Lance? You just missed him," Anna told them with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "He was here for a few days, making an ass of himself as usual, and left early this morning. Granted, he helped with the fields, too, but I swear it was just so he could stare at me."

"Wait, Lance actually helped with the planting?" Natalie asked in disbelief. "He hates digging in the dirt."

Anna's wry smile softened some as she shrugged. "He said it would be a waste if I melted under the sun, and that it would go faster with two people working." She snorted quietly before adding in a dry voice, "And then he spent almost the entire time commenting on my rear every time I bent down. Ah, well, at least he helped. What did you need him for, anyway?"

Matt and Natalie's amused smiles melted back into seriousness at that question.

"A woman came looking for us at a bar," Natalie explained and made a face. "She held herself and spoke like a stuck-up royalty, demanding to know if we knew, and where to find, a guy named 'Lancelot'. By her description, he sounded a lot like Lance."

Anna arched a thoughtful brow as she tied the last folded leather into a bundle with the rest with a length of twine. "Well, Lance would be a logical shortening of Lancelot. What did she want him for?"

"No idea. She wouldn't tell us, but she muttered something about finding him at long last, and she didn't sound all that friendly," Matt answered. "We wanted to give him the heads up and ask if he knew what it was all about. So, of course, we just missed him at his place and here."

Anna hummed as she straightened up with the leather slung over her shoulder. "Let me put this away and grab my gear, and I'll come with. We're just about done with planting, anyway."

And so, fifteen minutes later, Anna was calling goodbyes as she followed Natalie and Matt out of the village. While they walked, they talked about the strange woman, and what she could possibly want with Lance. By their description of her, Anna mused aloud that maybe she was a relative, what with having similar hair color and skin tone; Natalie snorted that they even acted and dressed sort of alike.

Shredding Lance's robots for the second time in two weeks was simple—especially with all three of them fighting—and they entered the factory to hear music echoing down the hall over the sounds of machinery. They followed the sound to a back hanger where Lance was using some kind of sparking device on a pile of wires and computer chips while wearing some sort of protective mask. He was dressed far more casually than normal, in just a white tank top and gray sweats, both stained with grease, as his hands and arms were.

"Do you guys always have to destroy my robots every time you visit?" he asked irritably when they approached and without looking up, though he did reach over to hit a button that silenced his music. "They don't just appear out of thin air, you know. The materials that go into making them are expensive."

"Well maybe you should program them not to attack us," Natalie shot back with a huff.

Lance actually paused at that and tilted his head thoughtfully as he set his tools aside and pushed his mask up. "You know, I've never thought of programming some kind of recognition technology into my robots. Not a bad plan." He smirked when both Anna and Natalie rolled their eyes with long sighs. "So, what brings all three of you all the way out here? We got a new monster or ruin to tackle?"

His eyes gleamed with eager hope only to dim with disappointment when Matt shook his head.

"Actually, we're here to talk to you."

"Look, if this is because of the fiasco with the plow, I swear that, for once, I didn't mean to break it."

"What? No. Why would we come out here to complain about a plow?" Matt said in confusion before abruptly shaking his head as he started getting distracted. "There's a woman looking for you. She's tall, has long red hair and pale brown eyes, almost golden. She called you Lancelot."

Lance's face went blank before he calmly turned around and headed for a computer set against the far wall where he began rapidly typing into it and plugging various cables in to connect it to some sort of small box on the desk. The other three watched in exasperated patience, used to him suddenly having a random idea that he needed to get down. What they weren't used to was when he finished and promptly melted the computer with a blast of fire.

"Er, something wrong?" Natalie tried as she watched Lance pace over to a supply closet to begin tossing things into his adventure pouch ranging from weapons and tools, to bottles and spare clothes.

"Plenty of things. You guys should leave." Lance calmly replied as he walked over to a red button labeled with a bright yellow-and-black striped WARNING sign.

He calmly flipped the glass covering of the button back, ignoring the alarm it sent off, and pressed it. Immediately, sirens began wailing and lights began flashing, and the other three jumped as they gaped at Lance, who began walking out the door with a harried gesture to move. A pleasant female voice came on over a loudspeaker.

" _Warning, emergency self-destruct sequence engaged. This compound will explode in five minutes. Side effects of explosion may include, but are not limited to: pain, mutilation, first-degree burns, vaporization, and even death. Please be sure to vacate the facility in an orderly manner to a distance of at least five hundred yards to avoid such complications. Warning, this compound will explode in four minutes_..."

" _Lance, what the hell?!_ " Natalie yelped over the noise as she and the others darted after him down the halls. "Are you trying to kill us?!"

"Contrary to past and popular opinions, you guys dying would be rather inconvenient," Lance dryly replied as he picked up his pace at the three minute mark. "Not that I think a building falling on your heads in an awesome and fiery display would stop you."

They had made it outside and a fair distance away before a shockwave went through the air and Natalie flung up a barrier. The cement and metal building behind them detonated with an enormous, concussive blast that set their ears ringing. Matt squinted back at the display and let out an unheard, but impressed whistle. Red and yellow flames burst out of the high windows before blasting the walls outwards and changing colors as different materials inside caught fire. Plumes of black smoke were already billowing up into the air, and subsequent blasts from stored explosives rocked the ground. Bits of debris hurtled through the air and turned to ash as they struck Natalie's barrier.

Anna punched Lance on the arm. "Maybe give us a little warning next time you decide to kamikaze your house?" she snarled. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion, and her eyes watering from the bright flames licking at the sky.

"Kamikaze would imply that I died to do it," Lance shot back in an offended sniff as he rubbed the forming bruise on his arm.

"Was that really necessary?" Matt wondered aloud. "I mean don't get me wrong, it was an awesome blast, but it's going to take a long time to rebuild all that stuff."

"And you still haven't said why you decided to blow your factory to kingdom come... with us _still inside_ ," Natalie muttered reproachfully.

Lance ran a hand through his bangs with a long sigh, causing it to stand up in a strange way, and leaving a smudge of grease in his forehead. "Yeah, building a new factory is going to be a pain; an expensive one, too. But I've got the really important parts out of it already: my designs, plans, journals, irreplaceable tools, hard to come by chemicals, weapons, armor, my toothbrush..."

"Glad to know personal hygiene ranks up there with the boom bringers," Anna sarcastically interrupted. "Now about the whole blowing your house up..."

Lance's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Valerie found me, which means I need to move. Far away. Like, the moon would be good."

"Is Valarie the woman's name?" Matt asked with a tilted head, already turning to walk away from the raging inferno of Lance's factory. "How do you know her?"

"She's my fiancé," Lance replied blandly with a distasteful expression. "She's a little... clingy."

The other three froze at that, gaping at the gunner, who kept walking for a few paces before realizing they weren't keeping up and turning to look back at them impatiently.

" _You_ have a _fiancé_?" Anna echoed in disbelief. "You're only, what, nineteen?"

"Twenty-one, actually," Lance corrected testily. "Now if we could please move? I don't want to see her, which means I need to get transport off this continent; preferably before she finds me and drags me back home where my parents can chew me out."

* * *

 _ **A/N** : It's been awhile, huh? I've been busy with summer classes (not so recently), and a LOT of work (very recently). The work has been making me tired, so I haven't been writing as much as normal, and nothing on any of my chapter stories. :(_

 _Still, I've been doing_ some _writing, and this is my most recent thing. :P I just had the idea to write about Lance as a runaway noble at about three in the morning one day, when I really needed to be sleeping for work the next day, and I just had to write it down. XD It's a lot lighter and funnier than some of my other works, but probably mostly because of the focus on Lance, whom I love writing for. It is still very much a work in progress, barely started, but one I'm_ really _enjoying writing, so far, and am eager to share with you guys. :3 I have a lot of ideas for this one, so it'll probably get updated at some point. (I haven't been this excited for something of mine in awhile!) Having said that, this was very much a rough writing, so there are almost certainly errors in both continuity and grammar, and parts may change in the future. Please let me know what you see wrong, and I'll try to address it quickly-ish._

 _Also, just to avoid comments on canonical references/changes, I know Lancelot and Lance are different characters who just happen to share similarities with each other while Lance was in the design process. But Lancelot makes such a good noble name that I just had to do it. :P_

 _Now, as a last note, I'm really not sure how to handle additions to things I post here. I don't particularly want to add new chapters for new additions due to breaks in writing interests that will separate chapters/additions, but I don't think any of you will get updates on the writing if I just update the existing documents. Furthermore, I don't want to start ANOTHER serious chapter fic when my other ones are being so sorely neglected. What are you guys' thoughts in this? Would it be alright to simply update the documents and let you guys find it on your own, though with a heads-up on my author's page, or would you rather I add new additions to works in here as new chapters in the collection?_

 _Anyway, leave me some reviews, and I'll be back later!_

 _ **Replies to Guest reviewers** :_

 _ **Jason** : Eh, heh, you've found me out. I adore making my characters suffer. (TwT") I don't actually like killing them off, though—and certainly not leaving them dead. The first chapter in this collection was very unusual for me in that sense. And I do really love writing dystopian futures. And fantasy. And magic. And suffering. I just like writing. XD_

 _ **Anonymous** : While I have read the first novel of The Hunger Games, and Underground does share a few similarities with the series, I wasn't actually drawing on them for inspiration—or at least, not consciously. I'll take that it reminded you of THe Hunger Games as a compliment. ^^ And, yes, I have read the Giver. It was my all-time favorite required reading, and one of the very few I actually look back on fondly. :3 Sadly, I can make no promises for the characters' innocences. I am a horrible person to them, after all. :D_

 _ **Guest** : Er, I guess anything with sex in it is a porn of some kind to me. And there was more than one explicit scene in it, so... I'm a little embarrassed you've been reading my horrible things over on Ao3, though. (*~*) ...I'm even more embarrassed to admit that those things are **incredibly** tame compared to some of the stuff I've written that will never see the dark light of the web. :S_

 _I wouldn't say I hate my own writing, for the most part, but I certainly am still so embarrassed by it at times that it makes realizing it's actually pretty good hard to admit, and even harder to acknowledge—which would be my inferiority complex "helping" me. :/ I would continue that fic, but I frankly am not quite sure where it's heading. To the surface, certainly, but that seems like a kind of lame goal in the sense of a foe to overcome, or something. I didn't develop the plot in my head so nearly as completely as I did the world, which makes for a difficult story to write. Maybe someday, though, because it is interesting._

 _Many of these stories I have continued, or plan to, but not so much that they seemed worth updating—typically only a couple hundred words here and there as writing them struck my fancy. Plus, we're back to the issue of how to get updates up in an organized manner that you all will be aware of. :P_


	10. Vineyard (Rated T)

**Working Title:** Vineyard

 **Genre** : Romance

 **Pairings** : Matt x Natalie

 **Rating** : T

 **Warnings** : Language, mentions of torture, light sexual themes (thanks, Lance)

* * *

"So I kind of want to buy this vineyard I saw," Matt announced one night as the team sat around the campfire.

The other three fell silent at that proclamation and gaped at the swordsman. Matt didn't seem to notice the stares, his own eyes fixed on his hands polishing Heaven's Gate.

"And... why would you want to buy a vineyard?" Lance finally asked.

"Because I want to make wine, duh."

"Do you even know how to make wine?" Anna asked skeptically. "I mean, it's not like you just smash the grapes and, voila, you have wine. It's a complicated process and takes a long time."

"Of course I know how to make wine," Matt scoffed. "I grew up on a vineyard-meadery combination. We made lots of alcoholic drinks. I didn't just suddenly decide wine-making sounded like a neat hobby, you know—I put some thought into it."

"You wouldn't be able to travel as much anymore, you know," Natalie cautioned. "You'd effectively become the head of a large-scale operation. You'd have to manage supplies, wages, upkeep, shipping, and a lot of other things. You'd need people to supply to, investors to buy the land and equipment, workers... There's a lot that goes into running a vineyard."

"If you guys don't want me to, then just say so and don't take a roundabout route of saying I'm impulse buying," Matt huffed as he tossed his cleaning cloth onto the pile of supplies beside him.

The others drew up short at that. Matt wasn't really all that stupid, and they knew it. He could be impulsive, rash, and simple, but not normally stupid. And clearly he was getting irritated at their subtle suggestions that he was being ridiculous.

"Hey, if you want to buy a vineyard, then buy a vineyard. We just want to be sure you've considered all the complications," Anna soothed. "It's a big responsibility, after all, and an expensive one."

"Do you think I can do it?" Matt asked as he looked up at them. "I mean, obviously starting up could be challenging, but once it's running smoothly I'd basically have a steady income and an awesome place to relax, and could go back to traveling if I want. And I've put a lot of thought into it, and talked to some people. The bars I usually go to said they'd be happy to carry my wine, and I have a lot of gold saved up from adventuring, plus there's this vineyard that recently went on the market after the owner died and they'll be auctioning it off if no one buys it soon. It'd come with all the equipment, a stock of aged and aging wine, acres of fields, a staff, and a villa. And like I said, I grew up in a vineyard, and I helped with production quite a lot. I want to make wine."

Lance exchanged a look with Natalie and Anna, then shrugged. "Well it certainly sounds like you've thought it through. If it's in your budget, then go for it, man."

"I kinda want to check out the vineyard first, though," Matt said with a bright smile. "I mean, I don't want to buy a place that's falling apart, and the previous owner was pretty old when he died. I have no idea what the upkeep was like."

"Good plan. We can start heading that way tomorrow," Natalie agreed with a wistful smile.

It was sad to think their time adventuring together was coming to a close. There hadn't been any warning that Matt was tired or bored of traveling and fighting, but he must be if he was looking at other things to do, and he looked really excited to start a new chapter in his life. She just wished his new chapter didn't require the ending of the team as they knew it. Not that what she wanted meant much. Matt did what he wanted, and had never looked at her the way she'd always longed for; he likely never would, either. Maybe it was a good thing they would be spending a lot of time apart—she could try to put her crush on him aside and let someone new in. And it wasn't like Lance and Anna were both going to quit traveling right away, anyway, so they'd still need a healer with them.

"Well, we should get some sleep, then," Natalie sighed as she stood up. "I imagine it'll be a long hike tomorrow. Goodnight, guys."

"'Night, Natz," Matt replied with a bright, if distracted smile. His eyes were looking out towards the east in the direction of the hopefully soon-to-be-his vineyard.

As she climbed into their tent, Natalie tried not to let his obvious enthusiasm hurt.

A week later and they crested a lush hill—the last blocking their view of the vineyard—and the four's breath caught in amazement at the sight that stretched out below. Hills upon hills of lush grapevines stretched out before them, climbing up the incline of a dead volcano. Irrigation streams crisscrossed the field, stretching from a wide river, and workers could be seen here and there picking weeds and checking vines. A mill sat beside the river with a wheel slowly turning in the water, though whether it was to pump drinking water from a well, or to provide an easier way to crush grapes, they weren't sure. Halfway up the slope, on a small hill of its own, was a lovely villa with an orange stone shingled roof, multiple floors, and a tidy yard. A stables sat below it with a connected pasture where a few horses grazed. Dirt tracks led from a large warehouse, where they assumed the entrance to the wine cellar was located, leading down to a well-worn cobbled road.

Lance whistled, "Not bad. Looks like nothing is in particularly bad repair, either—at least at this distance. We allowed to go closer?"

"Yeah, as long as we don't damage, steal, or disrupt anything," Matt confirmed as he started down the slope. His head twisted and turned as he looked around and took everything in. "It's a little bigger than I'd expected, but smaller than my parents' vineyard. I don't see a worker's lodge, though. I doubt they live elsewhere, so do they live in the house?"

"Maybe, or maybe there are bunks in the barn thing," Anna suggested. She took a deep breath with a smile and added, "The air is so clean, and the temperature is really nice for so late in the fall. I really like it. Is the harvest done for the year at this time?"

"I think so. Everything should have been pressed, distilled, and stored by now," Matt agreed. I don't smell any grapes, anyway."

He paused to inspect the first vine grate they came across, and nodded approvingly at the stainless steel cords and sturdy posts supporting the vines. The plants were healthy, and bare of fruit. A number had been chiseled into the post, marking the row as 45E, and he assumed that meant it was the forty-fifth row of the eastern field.

They moved on, looking around at the state of the fields and plants, as well as the irrigation system. Everything looked more or less okay, though they spied some posts that could stand to see some repairs. The warehouse barn obviously needed a new roof, but the walls were sturdy and well-maintained. Inside was a boiler and some massive vats for grape juice, along with some bunks for the workers, as Anna had guessed. Matt frowned at that, and made a mental note to look into building proper living quarters for the workers if he bought the vineyard. Healthy and happy workers were essential to success, after all.

The villa was also in good shape, though upon closer inspection, the yard needed quite a bit of help. A passing worker told them that the late owner's wife had managed the gardens and yard work until she'd passed a year or two before, and the owner had never bothered to hire a gardener. Someone came by once every week or so to trim the grass, but that was it. They were then directed to a small side house, where the butler for the villa lived, to get the keys inside and a simple tour and explanation of the history.

The man who greeted them was older with a receding hairline of graying black hair and a pair of glasses, but he seemed fit and friendly as he showed them the villa. The entry hall was open and decorated with wood furniture that came with the house, and solid stone floors. The windows on either side of the door let in plenty of light, and the ceiling was high, giving a very open and airy feel to the space. A sitting room was off to one side and the dining room was off to the other, with a kitchen past that. Upstairs had three guest bedrooms, though one had been converted into a study of sorts, while the master bedroom, strangely, was on the first floor past the sitting room. The reason for that became quickly apparent as there was an attached patio outside a sliding door with a personal, natural hot spring. A fire pit was set up for sitting beside or grilling on, and there was a hammock set in the shade of two trees.

"The volcano is no longer active, but the area is still rich with minerals and springs," the butler explained as he watched the four explore the space. "The soil is excellent for growing grapes, and rain always washes down more nutrients from the mountain."

"I'd buy this place just for the spring," Lance joked. "I mean, damn, that's luxury. Good for your health, too."

"Never took you for one to like soaking," Anna teased as she knelt beside the steaming water to dip her hand into it. "Mm, it feels really nice, though."

"A non-private spring can be located beyond the fence here, for any guests and visitors to use," the butler added smoothly. "The late master spared no expense for entertainment in his younger years."

"How'd he die, if you don't mind my asking?" Matt wondered. "Was it just old age?"

"Partially, yes. He also simply wasn't the same after the loss of his wife. They'd been married for over forty years, half of which were spent here. Alas, they were never blessed with children, and so there is no one to inherit this lovely property."

"How's the state of the equipment?" Matt asked. "It looked good from what I saw, but is anything due for replacement soon?"

"The distiller may need new piping in the next few years, and the mill could use some reinforcement on the spokes. Other than that, the workers will need replacement tools before too much longer—shears, trowels, rakes, buckets, and the like. The largest expense, to my knowledge, will be that the north field will require replanting this coming spring. It has been on lay back for a few years to allow the soil to recover, and the west field will need uprooting and tiling. Temporary workers will need to be hired, and it may perhaps require the purchase of plows and steers, if you do not wish to rent them."

"Not too bad," Matt mused thoughtfully. "The barn roof will need repairs, too. Which reminds me: do all the workers stay there at night?"

"There, and in the shadows of some of the walls," the butler agreed stiffly. "The late master was never too concerned with the health of his staff, gods bless his soul—less so after the loss of his wife."

"Well that would need to change if I buy this place," Matt muttered with a furrowed brow. "Building large enough of quarters would be expensive, though. Not sure I have the gold for that and buying the property..."

"I can give you some," Lance offered mildly. "And I can scrounge up some supplies and tools, too. It's not like I'm hurting for cash, either, after all."

"Maybe I'll take you up on that," Matt agreed with a grin. "So who do we talk to to buy the place?"

"Half a day's walk south and you'll come across a small town. The deed is being held by the local lord. You're the first to show such interest in purchasing the land and I do look forwards to serving you, should you do so, sir," the butler replied with a low bow.

Outside, the four headed south, pausing at the last foothill to look back at the vineyard.

"You getting it?" Lance asked with his arms crossed.

"I think so, yeah," Matt confirmed with a bright smile. He turned to the others with a reluctantly-questioning look and asked, "How long will you guys be sticking around? I won't be offended if you want to part ways now."

"Well I won't be going until after the workers' quarters goes up," Lance replied with a shake of his head. "I want to be sure they do a proper job with my gold. Once that's done, I'll decide where I'm heading next."

"I'll be heading back to Greenwood for a little while after you get the deed and ownership," Anna decided slowly. "We've had a bit of a drought this summer, and I need to figure out and buy whatever provisions we'll need for the winter."

Natalie hesitated for a long moment, chewing on her lower lip as she distantly stared up at the villa. "I don't know, just yet. I need to think about it. Maybe by the time we reach town I'll have some idea."

Matt looked like he wanted to say something, but he clearly changed his mind and nodded. "Alright, let's go, then."

Three hours later saw three of them sitting on a bench outside an office in the Census office. Matt was meeting with the local lord's real estate manager, discussing the purchase of the vineyard, and haggling the price. Anna was writing a list of food she needed to buy, while Lance was writing one of possible contacts to build the workers' lodge. Natalie was staring out the window at the passing clouds with a frown on her face, trying to come up with something to do with her life now that the team was breaking up.

Then the door opened and Matt stepped out with a bright smile of pride, followed by a stooped elderly man. The swordsman shook hands with the man and exchanged farewells and promises to supply some wine to the local serving houses as soon as he could. He then grinned at his friends with a thumbs up.

"It's mine, now," Matt all but crowed. "It was cheaper than I was expecting, too. Apparently, no one's shown much interest in it, and they were planning to sell it cheap at auction."

"I must admit, I hadn't expected anyone to come make an offer, much less pay the entire sum in hard cash," the manager noted in a reedy voice. "I hope you can repay your debtors."

Matt's face flickered with confusion. "Debtors?"

"The men you borrowed that gold from? I imagine they are just as anxious for you to get started producing wine as the rest of town."

Matt hesitated and glanced at Lance, who looked immensely amused. "What is this... borrowing gold thing he's talking about? Do people just give gold out for free?"

Lance snorted. "No, idiot. A lender, or debtor, agrees to lend gold or resources to someone who doesn't have enough of their own with a signed expectation of repayment on his investment, with a little extra. It's definitely not free, and can be very risky and expensive. I wouldn't recommend doing it, if you can avoid it."

The elder looked stunned. "You mean to tell me you just had all that gold on hand? Do you come from a wealthy family?"

"Uh, kind of? But I got the gold from killing monsters. Lots of monsters," Matt explained. He grinned at the other man's baffled look of shock and waved,

"Anyway, I should get going. Thank you for seeing me so quickly, and I'll get back to you soon! Come on, guys."

Outside Matt cheered. The others looked on fondly as he pumped the air with one fist. It had been awhile since they'd seen him so excited. But he quickly mellowed out when something occurred to him as he looked back over his shoulder at them.

"This is it, huh?" he quietly asked as he turned around. "No more team?"

"Well, not in the former sense, no," Lance agreed calmly. "We'll still be friends and visit and stuff, and I imagine you won't be able to stay still all year round, but it won't be a daily thing for you anymore. You've got a real job, now, Matt, and you'd better do it right or I'm going to lord it over you until you die."

"I'll definitely be by a lot," Anna agreed cheerfully. "I'm interested in how winemaking works, and I'd love to help out once in a while. Plus that hot spring is definitely something I want to try."

Natalie had remained silent up to that point, but she tried for a wan smile when Matt looked to her. "It'll be weird not seeing you everyday. It was all pretty sudden, after all. But I'll visit, too, and you'd better not hide feeling unwell from me. I want to know the instant you need me for anything."

Matt's smile fell a little more. "It'll be weird not seeing all of you, too. I'm probably going to miss you a lot. You'll let me know if you need me for anything too, right? You all will always be my top priority."

Lance cleared his throat. "Let's not do our sappy farewells just yet. After all, none of us are leaving tonight, and I'll be here for a while, still, anyway. We can head back to the- to Matt's villa and spend the night there."

Natalie backed up a step with a shake of her head. "Actually, I'm going to part ways here. They've got a warp crystal, and I can use it to return to the cabal I came from originally. The sooner the better. I want to go study higher magic."

Matt's smile abruptly fell into a disappointed frown. "I just got the place, and you don't even want to spend the night?"

"Yeah, Natz, studying can wait. You have to spend some time in the spring with me," Anna wheedled.

Natalie hesitated, but ultimately shook her head. She knew that if she stayed the night, she'd start coming up with excuses to stay longer come morning. And Matt had already made his choice to start something new. She didn't belong there in a world of wine making she knew nothing about. It was time for her to move on, too. Plus, she had a sneaking suspicion she'd start crying if she tried to do a long farewell.

"Maybe in the winter," Natalie compromised. "See you, guys."

Matt's hand shot out to grasp her wrist as she turned away. "Wait, Natalie, don't go just yet..." he begged.

"Matt, there isn't any reason for me to stay," Natalie refused, gently shaking off his hand. She caved a little under his crushed look, and leaned in to give him a hug. "You'll do great, I know it. You can do anything you set your mind to, after all. Good luck."

Matt couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, and merely nodded mutely as Natalie gave him one last smile, then turned to walk away. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't even brought up the idea of buying a vineyard. For some reason, he'd had it in his head that Natalie would still be there no matter what—that all of them would still be there. The end of the team suddenly seemed too great a price just to pick up a family trade and try something new that he loved. But he'd already paid the price—both of gold and the team.

"She'll be back, Matt," Lance quietly comforted. "She likes you too much to just cut you out of her life entirely."

"Not enough to stick around and celebrate with him, though," Anna muttered with a sour look at Natalie's back as the mage reached the warp crystal in town. In the next instant, Natalie was gone, and Anna shook herself and looked up at Matt. "Well, ready to head to your new home?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so," Matt quietly agreed. "Let's go..."

A few weeks later, Lance and Matt were watching a crew building the foundation for the new workers' lodge. The building was progressing smoothly, orders for new piping had been placed for the distiller, and Anna had set the garden and yard to straights before heading back to Greenwood. Lance had watched as Matt quickly and efficiently took control of the vineyard, and was impressed at his friend's ability; it was easy to see that Matt was familiar with the workings, as he'd said he was. Already the swordsman was coming up with ideas to flavor the wine and enhance its taste. All he really wasn't good at was keeping accurate records for his costs.

"So will you be heading out after this goes up?" Matt suddenly asked.

Lance shrugged, "Maybe. I don't know anything about wine making, so I'm not much use around here. I might stay in the area for a while, though. I bet those mountains have some good stuff in them." He hesitated before glancing at the blond with a considering look. "...Plus, I think you need someone here to track your finances for you until you get a professional. You can't be forgetting to write down your expenses all the time. This place'll go belly up in just a few months if you do that."

"True. You wouldn't mind doing that for awhile?"

"It's not like I've got anything more pressing to do," Lance pointed out. "Anna's helping dig irrigation canals and wells in Greenwood, Natz is off doing gods know what, and you're making wine. I don't have any grand aspirations right now, and any I used to have didn't fly with you."

"Well you have to admit taking over the known world is bad. Besides, you'd hate having to listen to everyone's problems," Matt joked and grinned when Lance laughed. He turned his head to look across the fields of grapes and quietly asked, "Did Anna say if she'd heard from Natalie?"

"No. Not even a letter, last I heard." Lance patted Matt's shoulder when it slumped. "She's fine, Matt."

"I know she's capable and strong, but I still worry about her," Matt mumbled. "And I still don't know why she left so suddenly... Did I make her mad?"

Lance hesitated, having some idea of what had happened, but not wanting to actually say it. Matt's forlorn expression made him cave, however, and he took a deep breath.

"I think, honestly, she didn't want you to quit adventuring," Lance admitted quietly. He shrugged when Matt cast a surprised and confused look at him. "It was really sudden, like she said. You'd probably been mulling over the whole vineyard idea for a long time, but it was barely a week for us, and it changed our lifestyles—a lifestyle Natalie had been doing for the longest of the three of us. I'm not saying you shouldn't have bought the vineyard, or even that you did anything wrong, but it was a shock."

Matt's expression fell. He'd never considered the possibility that he'd uprooted his friends' lives by deciding to quit adventuring. "Why didn't any of you say anything? Why didn't Natalie? I could have waited until I was older, or hired a manager to oversee everything, or something."

"Suppose that last year Natalie had suddenly decided that she was done adventuring in favor of doing dedicated magical study and becoming history's most powerful mage—something that she would be tied up in for the rest of her life, but been happy doing. Would you have tried to stop her?" Lance asked with raised brows. Matt's expression was answer enough, and the gunner nodded. "See? None of us wanted to dissuade you from doing something you'd thought over really well and wanted to do. It would have been selfish and wrong of us to even try. I imagine that Natalie wanted to stop you, but ultimately decided she couldn't ask that of you."

"So she does hate me," Matt mumbled with a stricken expression. He slumped to sit on a pile of lumber and stared at the ground between his feet, missing Lance roll his eyes in exasperation.

"She doesn't hate you, dolt," Lance grunted. "I don't think she could ever hate you. You'll see when she finally stops by. Now come on, and let's go to town to get me some actual ledgers. And we can stop by that tavern for some food, too."

Matt rose to his feet, still looking unconvinced and upset.

"And quit moping."

Lance arched a brow at the scowl he received from the swordsman, and held the sour look until Matt gave up and turned away.

 **OOOOOO**

 _Bang, bang, bang!_

Lance was jolted out of sleep by the loud, obnoxious knocking. He jerked upright with a sharp inhale of surprise, automatically reaching for his gunblade—which wasn't at his side. It only took him a split second to realize he'd fallen asleep at the desk in the office. The knocking continued, and he stood up with a groan, rubbing the back of his sore neck. All the way to the door—all five feet—the knocking continued. By the time he reached the barrier and yanked it open, he was ready to use his bare hands to kill whoever was banging.

All thoughts of anger flew out of his head at the sight that greeted him, however. A pair of Matt's workers were standing outside the villa door. One had been responsible for the knocking, and was carrying a lantern that glowed eerily in the foggy night. The other worker was carrying the unconscious form of Natalie. Without pause, Lance stood back to allow the men inside, already asking questions in a hurried voice.

"Where did you find her? What happened?"

"Just inside the south field, sir," the worker with the lantern replied. "She was already collapsed when we found her. Thought she was a vagabond sleeping in the fields, but she's hurt."

"Bring her here and lay her on the sofa, then go wake Matt and tell him to come see me and that it's important," Lance ordered as he cleared the papers from the day bed in his office.

Once Natalie was set down and the workers off to get Matt, Lance turned his attentions to the mage's wounds. She was in a terrible state: malnourished, dehydrated, and covered in small nicks and wounds. Her red dress was smeared with dirt and had a number of small holes that looked like she'd forced her way through a briar patch. The adventure pouch was gone from her waist, and her staff hadn't been brought in with her, so he assumed it was either still down at the southern field, or gone for good. More alarming than any of those, however, was the fact that she had clearly been being held prisoner at some point. Old, half-healed shackle wounds encircled her wrists, and there were a few wounds on her legs that looked intentional, like someone had broken the bones to keep her from running or moving.

"Why didn't you heal these yourself?" Lance murmured as he carefully felt her waist for suspicious lumps.

Natalie said nothing, and didn't even flinch under his touch, still unconscious. The fabric of her dress was cold, as was her skin, and there were a few raised lines under her dress that told him she had healing wounds. Lance's eyes narrowed and his lips pursed as he tossed a light throw blanket over her, already forming a list of supplies that he would need to care for her. Then the door opened and he glanced over his shoulder to see a bleary-eyed Matt entering.

"Hey, Lance, why'd you..." Matt started to mumbled before cutting off with a sharp inhale. "Natalie! What's wrong with her?!"

"Details later. Right now, you stay here with her while I go gather our medical supplies. And don't expect her to heal everything with magic when she wakes up. She has wounds that are days, even weeks, old, which tells me something is wrong with her mana," Lance briskly stated as he walked out of the room.

Matt gaped after the gunner before turning his eyes to where Natalie was sleeping. After a moment, he moved to carefully sit beside her head and brushed a gentle hand through her bangs to move them off her face. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and lines of exhaustion on her face, even in sleep. Her features were slack, and her chest rose so slowly and shallowly, she almost looked dead—so much so, that Matt found himself checking her pulse to reassure himself that she was still alive, if not okay. A suspicious burning was forming behind his eyes as he brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.

"I knew I should have checked on you," Matt whispered. "This wouldn't have happened if I'd been there..."

Natalie let out a small noise at his voice, and rolled her face to press against his touch. Matt held his breath as he watched her face scrunch up before her eyes peeled open. For several moments, Natalie blinked up at him without comprehension, clearly blurry-eyed; then her eyes widened and something akin to fear blossomed in them, and she jerked away from him.

"Whoa, Natz, it's just me! It's Matt," Matt soothed, gently pressing her shoulder to keep her lying down when she tried to spring up. The light of panic in her eyes lifted some at the sound of his voice, and he kept talking in an effort to calm her further. "Easy, easy, Natalie. You're safe..."

The mage released out a long breath, and relaxed back into the cushion beneath her. "Matt," she whispered with tears in her eyes.

The swordsman nodded in reply, finally letting go of her shoulder. "You're safe," he repeated. His eyes glanced down at her collar bone, shoulders, and arms; the blanket had been knocked askew in her panic, revealing a number of bruises and cuts. "Safe, but hurt," he amended with a worried frown. "Lance is getting some bandages and stuff. What happened?"

Natalie tensed uneasily, and her eyes slid away from Matt's. "Nothing," she feebly replied.

Both of Matt's eyebrows pulled inwards and his frown deepened. "You know I won't believe that. Who attacked you?"

"It's not important."

"The hell it isn't! You don't come showing up at people's houses in the dead of the night after being missing for months, covered in wounds, and have it be ' _nothing_ ,'" Matt snapped.

At that moment, the door reopened, and Lance entered with a large tray of supplies, a basket hooked over one arm, and a bucket of hot water over the other. His eyebrow arched at the glare Matt was giving Natalie, but he was relieved that the mage was awake.

"Lover's spat?" Lance lightly asked with a smirk. As he suspected, both Matt and Natalie flushed and jerked away from each other, their glares moving to him. He arched his other brow at the looks before settling to business. "Anna isn't here, so we'll be treating the wounds," he informed Natalie in a tone that said he wasn't taking no for an answer. "Other than the shackle wounds and superfluous cuts, where are you hurt?"

" _Shackle wounds_?" Matt echoed in a low, deadly voice. His eyes moved back to Natalie. "Is being a _prisoner_ also _nothing_?"

"You're not helping, Matt," Lance warned as he saw Natalie flinch. "If you can't control your temper, then go wait outside."

Matt gaped at Lance for having the sheer audacity of even suggesting he go away when Natalie was hurt. But before he could say anything, the mage spoke.

"Maybe you should wait outside, Matt. I don't need two men seeing me topless."

A few moments passed in silence where Matt returned to staring at Natalie in hurt confusion. She hated being in any kind of state of undress around Lance, whereas he had treated her wounds before, but now she wanted him away while Lance tended to her? Or maybe she thought he'd hurt her, too, since he was so mad? The thought caused a flare of guilt to rise up, and he numbly stood to leave the room in silence, shrugging off the comforting hand Lance placed on his shoulder as he passed. He shut the door harder than necessary, and headed outside for some fresh air to clear his thoughts.

Back in the office, Lance was shaking his head as he sorted through the materials he'd set on his desk. Behind him, Natalie was sitting up and silently dressing in an over-sized robe he'd brought for her to wear. Tension was thick in the air, but neither person seemed inclined to break it just yet.

"So what did you not want Matt to see or hear?" Lance finally asked as he turned around with a pair of clean towels.

"Nothing."

"You know I don't buy that, Natalie. I won't tell him, if you don't want me to, but I need to know so we can start treating it. And don't try to feed me some cock and bull story about healing yourself. If you were capable of that, then you wouldn't be in this state."

"There isn't anything specific, really," Natalie insisted, briefly glancing over her shoulder. She turned to face forwards again as Lance moved to sit behind her, and her voice fell, "I just hate seeing him upset, and if he's that worked up about scratches, then he doesn't need to see the full extent. He'll do something stupid—we both know he will—and I don't want him to get hurt."

Lance hummed in a tone that said he was unconvinced, but chose something else to say. "Are your legs okay? Not improperly mended or anything?"

"I didn't have time to finish the surface wounds, but the bones are fine, so no re-breaking or splinting needed."

Lance nodded with a relieved sigh and held out one of the towels for her to take. "Good. Now drop the robe to your waist. You can get the things on the front, I'll handle the back."

Natalie reluctantly shrugged the robe down as instructed, the tie at her waist holding it closed over her legs. Lance would never try or say anything to her about it in a situation as serious as this, she knew, but she still felt awkward to be sitting in front of him, half-naked, even if she knew he wasn't going to be focused on her nudity. Behind her, Lance sucked in a sharp breath, and her shoulders stiffened as she ducked her head a little with her eyes fixed on a shallow cut on her stomach. She began carefully dabbing at the wound with the hot water, and felt Lance start doing the same against the cuts on her back. Even though she'd never seen the wounds for herself, she knew what he was seeing.

Lash marks.

Silence reigned for a long time as the pair worked to clean and disinfect the many wounds. Natalie had moved on to her legs, her skin prickling as Lance reached her lower back. He wouldn't go past the robe-line, but she knew the marks extended further than that—they went all the way down the backs of her thighs.

"Did whoever did this, or anyone else..." Lance started to say before trailing off to gather himself. "Were you raped?"

To his relief, Natalie shook her head.

"No. For once, my body wasn't what they wanted. Not in that sense, anyway. A few of the guards were interested, but nothing serious came of it, and they weren't allowed in my cell."

"Can you tell me what happened?" Lance asked as he picked up the antiseptic cream again to smear it on the cut he'd just cleaned. "Why were you being held prisoner? How did it happen, and where? How long were you trapped? Who did it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Natalie whispered. "Please, Lance."

Lance didn't reply for a few moments before letting out a long sigh. "Alright, I'll let it go for now, but only if you promise to tell me... or Matt... the whole story soon."

"I promise."

"Good. Are they going to be coming after you since you escaped, or were you let go?"

"Allowed to escape, I think," Natalie slowly replied. "I can't think of any other reason why they would have let my mana loose after so long of complete lock down. I just had access to it one night, and seized the opportunity. I was pretty weak, and healing my legs took almost all of my remaining mana."

"Why's it locked now, then?"

"I ran into some trouble on my way out. Some of the guards were wizards, and they cast a spell on me. I thought it was just a siphon, but it's been over a week since it happened, and I still can't cast. I don't know what to do about it."

Lance listened with a grim frown as Natalie calmly explained as much as she was willing to. The calm, he figured, was more due to shock and relief, than anything else. He couldn't imagine her staying this rational for long if she'd been through something harrowing enough to not want to talk about it. The mana seal was a problem, but, at the moment, he was more concerned about her mental health, and he made a silent note to get a sleeping draught from town in case she started having nightmares. For now, however, they needed to finish tending the wounds.

"Alright, let's get the bandages on and then get you to a proper bed. Think you can manage to eat something before you pass out, or do you want to wait until tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. I'll have some water now, but I don't know how well food will stay down," Natalie replied.

She raised her arms over her head so that Lance could wind a roll of bandages around her torso, all the way up to her collarbone, and over one shoulder for secureness. His fingers moved over her chest with medical swiftness, obviously not lingering any longer than was necessary to apply the binding. A couple of strips were wrapped around each of her wrists where the shackles had been, and Lance wrapped one around a long gash on her left calf.

"Alright, we'll change those tomorrow at noon," Lance sighed as he stood up to allow Natalie to pull her robe back up and fasten it shut. "I'll swing by town to get you some shirts and pants, and some more medicine."

"Is Anna unavailable?" Natalie asked as she accepted Lance's help in standing up.

The gunner nodded, and guided one of her arms to wrap around his neck for support when she swayed. "Unfortunately. They're doing some renovations at Greenwood, and the warp slime vanished. Anna promised in her last letter that it would come back once things calm down, and that she'd swing by for a visit when it did."

They stepped out into the front hall again, and slowly headed for the stairs. Every step hurt for Natalie, who was really feeling her injuries now that the adrenaline she'd been running on for days had finally left her system.

"What... are they renovating?" Natalie panted as they reached the platform and paused for a rest.

"A new irrigation system and building a cold-food storage. Anna funded it so they could stockpile their meat and crops for winter without being so dependent on the weather and game, or have to smoke and salt everything."

"That's good. I'm glad she took my idea," Natalie murmured as they began their next climb.

"The idea was a good one, and she knew it, even if she was mad at you."

"Mad at me? For what?"

Lance shrugged his opposite shoulder with a wry smile. "Matt's been pretty miserable since you left and never visited. Anna had heard from the rumor mill in Goldenbrick that you were running with a new team, and was mad that you'd, ah, 'completely dumped' our poor swordsman."

Natalie flushed a bright red at the allusion to being Matt's girlfriend. "But Matt and I were never-"

"I know," Lance broke in with a snort. "I still don't understand why not, but I know." He briefly glanced sideways at her before opening a door to a guest room. "How come you never came to visit him? I mean, I know you were imprisoned, but before that? Unless you spent most of the last eleven months in a cell."

It wasn't until Natalie was settled onto the bed and Lance retrieved a pitcher and a glass for water that she refilled and drained three times, that she responded. Her voice was low as she stared down at her lap.

"He never got it," Natalie murmured. She picked at a loose thread in the sheets as she went on in a miserable voice, "Even asking more directly never worked. He just doesn't like me like that. When he decided he wanted to become a vintner, I knew it was over. It was his choice, and I decided I'd respect that. I wanted to get over him, so I stayed away." She let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "Yet here I am, running to him when I have a problem. Gods, I'm pathetic. No wonder he doesn't love me."

Lance leaned down to rest both his hands on her shoulders to give her a light shake. That kind of thinking needed nipping in the bud, and it was time she knew exactly what Matt felt. He and Anna had tried for years to let the pair work it out on their own with no results. Natalie was too shy, and Matt too oblivious to take that next step, and he was sick of waiting for them. And if giving them a harder nudge was what it took to keep Natalie out of the state she was in now, then he'd drug them and shut them in a room together with no clothes until they worked things out.

"You're not pathetic, Natz, and you made the right choice in coming here. And whether you or he sees it or not, he does love you. It's why he gets so mad when he sees you hurt, and it's why he's so miserable when you're gone." He let out a short laugh as he stood back, "And it's why he'll die a virgin if you don't take him to bed. You've got him completely tied up, and he has no clue. I do think you need to give up on hearing 'I love you' from him first, though. It won't happen because he doesn't know what he's feeling, and he's about as thick as a tree when it comes to subtle prods."

Natalie flushed a bright red, even as she stared up at Lance in uncertain disbelief. "I- I don't know if I can..."

"You don't need to do it immediately," Lance cut in when she trailed off. "In fact, it might be better if you got well, first, so he'll calm down. Give him some time to get used to the idea that you're around again, and you'll see that it'll be just a couple of days before he's doing things to try and make you smile. It'll be good to see him grinning again. He doesn't do it nearly as much, anymore."

Natalie's eyes dropped again, and she nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll try," she mumbled.

"You've got him, Natz, now you just need to make sure he knows that you've got him, too." Lance stepped back and gestured to the water on the table beside the bed. "I'll leave that there. My bedroom is the first door on your left in the hall, and Matt's is the double door in the back of the first floor—you know, by the private spring. Don't hesitate to get either of us if you need anything before sunrise."

"Got it. Good night, Lance," Natalie murmured as she laid down and snuggled into the strange but comfortable silk sheets. The gunner was at the door when she softly called, "And Lance? Thank you."

"Anytime," Lance replied with a sly, teasing grin. "After all, I finally got to see you topless."

He shut the door with a laugh, blocking the pillow Natalie chucked at him. Inside, Natalie was huffing with a smile and pink cheeks. It was good to know he hadn't matured that much in the past year. He was still an incorrigible ass, though a caring one and a good friend. In fact, she'd even dare say she'd missed him even if he was a pervert, and it was kind of weird to be getting romantic advice from him. But her musings about Lance and her relationship with Matt could wait until tomorrow, at least. For now, her eyes were already sliding closed unbidden, and she quickly fell asleep.

Outside her door, Lance was quietly talking with Matt, who'd finally come in from a long walk.

"Physically, she's pretty battered, but nothing long term," Lance was informing the swordsman. "It's the mental half of the injuries that I'm worried about. Right now she's pretty stable, but I think that as soon as the rush of realizing she's safe wears off, she'll be uncertain and afraid."

"Did they...?" Matt hesitantly asked.

"No, she said they weren't interested in that from her," Lance assured, guessing what Matt was getting at. "She wouldn't tell me why they were holding her, but no one took her. Still, they beat her up quite badly, so she'll need proper food and rest, and soaking in the hot spring can't hurt. Just make sure she doesn't stay in the water too long, and she'll be fine."

"Any signs of infection?"

"Not in the wounds I saw, and she didn't feel feverish. It's still a little early to rule out developing an infection, of course, but it's less likely to happen now that she's here and getting care."

"...I see. And did she... Is she afraid of me?"

Lance blinked twice in confusion, sure he'd heard that wrong. "What?"

"Is she afraid of me? She didn't want me around since I was mad... Does she think I'll hurt her?"

" _What_?" Lance repeated in a dumbfounded tone. "She's not afraid of you, and she certainly doesn't think you're going to hurt her. If she thought you were going to do something to her, she wouldn't have come here."

"But what if she didn't think that before, but now she does?" Matt fretted. "What if-"

"You're an idiot," Lance flatly broke in. "I know you won't be reassured until she tells you, but you're only dangerous to your foes. She trusts you to look out for her until she's back on her feet; she just doesn't want you to get upset about something you can't go back and change. No, you can't ask her now: she's gone to sleep. Natz'll still be here in the morning, so try and get some more sleep. We have to replace the spokes in the windmill tomorrow, remember?"

Matt frowned in distress at the way Lance blocked his way to check on Natalie. Ultimately, however, he had to admit that the gunner was right—he normally was. And so, reluctantly, he turned away to head for his room. Lance waited until Matt had gone down the stairs before retiring to his own room, already turning his mind to tomorrow's work—he had to finish tallying accounts, replace the windmill spokes, get medicine and clothes for Natalie, harangue the workers into finishing repairing fences, move the aged wine to the front of the cellar for transport and sale... It was a long list.

"I should demand a salary," Lance muttered as he stripped down before flopping onto his bed. "I've certainly earned it."

But he had to admit that he found all of the details of the vineyard fascinating. Managing numbers, workers, machinery, and output all appealed to his sense of efficiency and innovation. And Matt was an exceptional salesman with a long list of people who anxiously wanted to sell the wine of a hero, and he had a good taste and nose for flavor and aroma.

Before Lance knew it, he was waking up to the sound of birds chirping, and early morning light was filtering between the shades. For a few moments, he simply lay where he was, unwilling to completely give up the warmth and coziness of his bed. Sadly, Natalie needed checking in on, and the day's work wasn't going to get done without him. And so he rolled to sit up with a reluctant groan, stretching his arms over his head, and stood to dig through the closet for some beat up work clothes.

Once out in the hall, he paused when he saw Matt sleeping against the wall across from the guest room Natalie was sleeping in. A loose blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, and he'd clearly spent the night there. Lance rolled his eyes as he quietly stepped past and softly knocked on Natalie's door to alert her before slipping inside.

The mage was just sitting up and looking around the room in sleepy confusion. The robe she'd slept in had slipped off of one slender shoulder, and her hair was a tangled mess, still littered with leaves and twigs.

"Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Lance briskly asked as he stepped around the bed to open the shades and let sunlight in.

Natalie winced, squinting against the sudden light, but nodded with a yawn. "Yes, thanks."

"Just so you know, Matt's fallen asleep in the hall outside your door," Lance sighed. "He'll probably be distracted all day, now. Thanks for that."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of the mage's mouth. "Still as prickly as ever. I'll do my best to keep out from underfoot. I doubt I can even stay upright for very long, anyway."

"Can you manage long enough for a bath?" Lance asked with a pointed glance at her tangled orange hair.

"Probably. If not, then at least I won't be a distraction for very long," Natalie grimly joked as she slid to the edge of the bed.

As he had last night, Lance looped her arm around his neck and his own arm around her waist to guide her out of the room. The mage faltered slightly at the sight of Matt sleeping against the wall, and her eyes softened. He had to have been concerned for her, and she hadn't done anything to reassure him before sending him away. The brush off couldn't have helped, either, she knew, and she walked up to kneel beside him with Lance's help.

A single touch had Matt jolting awake and he sat up straight with a gasp. Then his eyes fell on the sight of Natalie and his expression melted into relief. He couldn't resist pulling her from Lance's grasp to give her a hug.

"Natz! I'm glad you're up. I missed you so much..."

"Easy on the bandages," Natalie warned, though in a tone that wasn't very forceful. She wrapped her own arms around him and tucked her face into his shoulder before murmuring, "I missed you, too."

Matt pulled back a few moments later and took over the job of steadying the mage. A stomach growling that wasn't his own had him glancing at her and asking, "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Anything. Everything."

"Well, the table might be a little tough," Lance airily joked. "Maybe if we soften it in the spring..."

"You know what she meant, ass," Matt snorted. "I'll see if Peter is up, yet. Maybe he'll make us his omelette supreme."

Lance swallowed a sudden mouthful of drool and calmly informed Natalie in a tone of upmost seriousness, "You haven't lived until you've had Peter's omelette supreme."

"Careful, you're starting to sound like Matt," Natalie laughed.

"Maybe Matt has had the right idea this entire time," Lance countered with a grin. He turned to head down the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll go talk to Peter. Matt, help Natalie to the bath. She needs it. Change her bandages while you're there."

Matt spluttered out a protest vaguely about decency, while Natalie made a small sound of protest. It was Natalie's noise that caused Lance to pause, just barely within sight. He glanced over the edge of the stairs at the mage, nodded once in reassurance, then continued on. On the platform, Natalie and Matt stood in awkward silence, refusing to look at each other.

Finally, Matt let out a sigh and started walking forwards, forcing Natalie to follow him. He could feel her reluctance, and barely resisted apologizing. There wasn't any reason to apologize, he told himself. Lance was the one who'd forced the situation on them, and it wasn't like he should be apologizing for her needing help getting to the bath.

For her part, Natalie was anxious. It was bad enough that Lance had seen the signs of abuse—he could be trusted to keep a fairly level head, even if she knew he'd start planning cold-blooded murder. Matt was more emotional; if he thought something was hurting those close to him, he near-immediately lashed out in a violent, deadly way. He'd never hurt his friends, but anyone else? It wouldn't be a pretty scene.

Humid air suddenly hit her skin, and she blinked back to awareness to see that they'd made it to the far side of the bottom floor. Matt's personal hot spring steamed in the otherwise-cool air of the enclosure, and Natalie could already feel her muscles unwinding at the thought of relaxing in it. A table had been set up in the center of the space beside the fire pit along with two chairs, and an awning had been raised over the space to increase the feeling of privacy. Twin racks of fluffy white towels and robes sat beside the sliding door.

"Do you and Lance share the pool?" Natalie asked as Matt lowered her to sit in a chair.

"Sometimes. I mean, we share it, of course, but we're rarely in it at the same time. Usually, one of us is doing something else at the time the other is soaking," Matt replied as he moved to haul a stone stool into the water for Natalie to sit on. His cheeks were slightly colored as he moved out and glanced to the side. "How do you want to do this? Lance says you can't be left alone in there, and Anna's unreachable at the moment."

"I, um- We could..." Natalie stuttered uncertainly, feeling her own blush rise. Finally, she took a deep breath, trying to rein in her embarrassment. "You don't need to be in the water, too, and I can keep the robe on, right?"

"Bandages," Matt reminded quietly. "You'll need help washing the... wounds... and changing the bandages."

Natalie silently cursed at that, wondering how much she could possibly do by herself, and wishing, perhaps for the first time, that it was Lance she was stuck with in this situation, not Matt. "I don't need your help washing my skin. I kept the lower half covered last night, and we can do that today, too," she finally decided stiffly.

Matt winced slightly at her chilly voice, and the way she refused to look at him. "Do you, um, want me to get Lance? I can see you don't trust me here, so..."

It hurt, but it was true, he thought. He wondered how he'd gone so wrong that _Natalie_ , of all people, didn't trust him. A part of him wanted to just go crawl into the corner to die at the thought, but he needed to make sure she was cared for.

"I trust you fine," Natalie refuted, cutting into his thoughts. She could hear the hurt in his voice, and knew she needed to reassure him. "What I don't trust is how you'll react to my injuries. If you can promise to not flip out, then we don't need Lance here. If you can't promise that, then go get Lance."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Matt solemnly swore with a hurt expression. "I wasn't going to last night, either."

Natalie stared at him with baffled, concerned eyes. "Well of course you're not going to hurt me," she slowly said. "Who said that was a problem?"

Matt refused to reply, instead moving to help Natalie into the water. The mage went willingly, and shivered at the extreme temperature shift, but most of her attention was focused on trying to get Matt to meet her eyes. It was only when he had her settled on the low stool, up to her collarbone in heated water, and began pulling away that she dared to grab his wrist. The water had loosened the binding over the wrap on her own wrist, and the bandage slipped off to float in the water.

Matt's shoulders stiffened as he stared at the healing wound marring the smooth skin of her wrist. For a few moments, both were frozen—Natalie with her hand around Matt's arm, and Matt with his eyes trained on her wrist. It wasn't news to the swordsman, but it was his first time seeing the mark, and it was undeniable proof of what had happened to her.

Natalie held her breath as Matt's other hand came up to lightly trace the skin around the shackle wound. The injury would scar without healing magic, she knew—it had already begun to scar. She wondered if the resulting mark damaged her overall beauty—to say nothing of the marks across her back. It was a vain thought, of course, but she'd always known she was beautiful, and she'd liked that part of her. Not that her outward appearance had ever swayed Matt, but she doubted that being scarred would help her case.

"I'm sorry," Matt said in a hushed voice.

The apology startled Natalie and she blinked a few times in confusion before seeing the mournful look in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault," she refused, drawing her hand away to tuck it out of sight under the water. "You couldn't have known. I know you would have come if you had."

"It wouldn't have happened at all if I hadn't bought the vineyard," Matt muttered. "I would still have been there, and no one would have hurt you."

"If I had been paying attention to where I was walking, it wouldn't have happened to me," Natalie countered. "And if I don't blame myself, then I certainly don't blame you. Now where's the soap and a cloth? I've got about a month of grime I want to wash off, and I'm sure the smell is just as bad as the look."

Matt looked like he wanted to protest, but he took in Natalie's flushing features and knew they needed to hurry up before she had to get out of the water. So he retrieved two cloths and a bar of soap from a nearby cabinet and handed one to Natalie. An awkward clearing of his throat and a nod at the robe on her body was enough to get Natalie to take a deep breath and turn around to begin undoing the robe.

"I don't want to hear anything about the wounds," Natalie flatly said as she fumbled with the knot in the sash. "I'm trying to think of other things, so don't make me talk about them."

"Alright..." Matt warily agreed. He reached out to help unwind the bandages covering her upper body and sucked in a sharp, horrified breath at the sight that was revealed. " _Gods_..." he noiselessly mouthed to himself as he took in the lines criss-crossing Natalie's shoulders and upper back all the way down into the water.

Most of the marks were almost completely sealed over with scabs and new or scarred skin, but parts had been opened by being pulled from the bandages and from movement. He couldn't understand how Natalie had kept such a neutral mask on; the wounds had to be agonizing, especially to move. Or maybe, his mind darkly considered, maybe she was used to the pain after being exposed to it for so long.

Natalie washed herself in tense silence, feeling the weight of Matt's stare on her back. In an effort to distract herself, she watched as layers of dirt, sweat, and dried blood flaked off her skin to cloud the water. It was heavenly to watch and feel, and she couldn't wait to be clean again. She just hoped the hot spring drained itself, or the water would be disgusting for some time.

A finger suddenly ghosted across her back, to cross her spine and run alongside a scar on her back. Goosebumps erupted on her arms and legs, and she couldn't resist a shiver. The finger was followed by a cloth carefully and gently washing her back, and she relaxed despite herself. Matt said nothing, obviously trying to heed her request to not pry, but she could almost see his glare. Then Natalie jumped as she felt his finger on a different mark, accompanied by an unusual tingling sensation.

"Wh-What are you doing?" she gasped.

"I'm not anywhere near as good as you or Anna, but I figure I can help prevent a few scars," Matt quietly replied. "They aren't deep, for the most part, and I know I can heal surface wounds."

Natalie's eyes widened in surprise before her expression softened even as tears welled in her eyes. "Thanks," she breathed unevenly. "Maybe I can get the rest when my mana is back."

The first tear trickled down her cheek, and she wondered where it had come from. She wasn't upset, after all, and she was safe for the first time in months. A second tear ran from the opposite eye as she felt Matt move on to another mark. And then she was silently crying, unable to hold back her tears.

Matt had just cut off his magic, having healed all he could, when he heard her sniffle, and he stared at the back of her head, feeling at a loss. Her shoulders were shaking now, hunched inwards, and he figured this was the mental break Lance had warned him about. Now he could only hope that he was enough to keep her together, or at least hold on to the pieces until she could put herself back together again. Hopefully, he was up to the challenge.

Natalie felt a pair of arms come around her shoulders to link together just above her chest. The stool vanished from underneath her in favor of her being settled into Matt's lap as he held her in the hot water. He was still wearing his clothes, she distantly noted as she felt fabric slide past her skin and saw blurry black below her chin. A cheek settled against her hair, and she inanely remembered that they hadn't washed her hair, yet. Not that it seemed to be bothering Matt at all as he silently rocked her back and forth, calming the sobs that began to shake her body.

"I- I'm s-sorry," Natalie whimpered after a few minutes in the gentle hold. "D-Don't know what c-came o-over me..."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Matt quietly replied. "It just finally hit that it's over, I'm sure. And it _is_ over. You're safe now, and I'll be sure to keep you that way, alright?"

"A-Alright," Natalie agreed as she brought a hand out of the water to rub over her cheeks, trying to remove the tears on them.

"Now, I think you've been in here too long, so let's sit you up on the side, and I'll get your hair for you," Matt went on, already shifting to boost Natalie out of the water.

He kept his eyes off to the side as he set her down on a smooth stone with her legs still in the water and the soaked, loosened robe around her hips. Then he splashed out of the spring to retrieve a bucket that was normally filled with ice to keep drinks cold and dipped it in the water to fill it before hauling it over to Natalie. His clothing ran with water, and was most likely ruined, but he didn't seem to care as he told Natalie to close her eyes and sluiced water over her hair to thoroughly wet it. Calloused fingers began rubbing through the matted tresses, working some kind of herbal-smelling soap all the way down to her scalp.

"It'll kill any bugs," Matt quietly explained as he worked. "Lance got fleas up in the mountains, if you can believe it, and one of the workers recommended this stuff. I don't know if you've got any kind of bugs, but they won't be there after this—the soap is really effective."

"I don't think I do, but it'll be good to be sure," Natalie mumbled, her eyes shut as she enjoyed the swordsman's fingers kneading her scalp.

Another bucket of water washed over her, and Matt renewed his efforts with more shampoo, this time more concerned with cleaning than lathering. He hummed quietly as he worked, trying to distract Natalie from the pulling as he began trying to detangle her hair. Large clumps of loose, dead hair was washed out along with brown tinted water, stained from sweat, blood, dirt, and a few leaves. There were no wounds on her head that he felt or saw, and he began to feel like he was finally making progress in straightening it.

"Feeling okay?" Matt asked after a few minutes of silence apart from splashing and humming.

"Mmhmm," Natalie hummed. Her voice was lazy and sleepy sounding as she added, "It doesn't itch so much anymore. And it feels really nice... like a massage."

Matt smiled slightly at that. "I didn't know you liked having your head rubbed."

"I think most people do," Natalie sighed contently. "Lots of nerve endings up there, you know."

"I'll take your word for it. One more round of soap, and then I think you're good to go. Doesn't even need cutting, I don't think."

By the end, Natalie's hair hung down her back in a long, glistening sheet of deep orange with water dripping off it. It didn't take long to reapply some fresh bandages since everything had been washed, and Matt had healed the remaining open wounds on her back and wrists. Then Natalie was wrapped in one of the fresh robes from the rack and waited with her eyes closed as Matt peeled off his sopping clothes to pull on the other robe. She listened as fabric rustled and wet cloth hit the ground, and couldn't help but feel an urge to peek. She'd seen Matt shirtless plenty of times when he was being treated for a wound or before he went to sleep in a hot environment, but she had always tried not to stare. Still, she couldn't resist slitting her eyes open just slightly to see the blurry form of Matt between her lashes, tossing a white robe around his shoulders before tying it shut.

"Alright, let's go get some food. Assuming Lance hasn't eaten it all."

As it turned out, Lance was waiting just outside Matt's bedroom for them. His eyes scanned Natalie up and down, taking in her clean skin and relaxed expression. Then his gaze moved to Matt, and he inwardly winced at the cold shadow in the normally warm blue eyes. A pointed look from the swordsman said they would be talking later, and he assumed it could only be because of the lash marks across Natalie's back.

"Peter just started cooking now," Lance announced after clearing his throat. "I'm having him make some toast, too, just in case the egg is too much for your stomach, Natz. In the meantime, I've got a shirt and a pair of pants that shouldn't be _too_ big on you. Relatively speaking."

"Lead the way," Natalie sighed, feeling drowsy from the long bath and healing injuries. Still, her back hurt a lot less, and she could acutely feel the difference now that the pain was gone.

Lance seemed to notice her exhaustion as he gestured to follow, and Matt led her to a brightly lit room filled with a variety of plush furniture loosely circling a fireplace. It was a complete bachelor pad, Natalie noted in amusement. Everything was for comfort, nothing matched, and they'd placed most of the furniture up against the walls except what they actually typically used. Despite the unappealing aesthetic, it worked for sitting, and she could appreciate that as she was lowered into an oversized arm chair. She sank back into the cushy surface and watched as Lance slipped off to get the clothes. Matt settled down on a footstool not far away, silently watching her.

 **OOOOOO**

Filtered golden sunlight was what coaxed Natalie awake in the morning and she squinted her eyes open to see her window. The off-white curtains drifted lightly in the morning breeze blowing in from the open window, and the smell of dewy grass and ripening grapes filled her nose. It was cool, but not overly so while under the soft cotton sheets of her bed, and she thought she smelled a hint of rain on the air. Distant voices calling outside told her the workers had already begun their tasks for the day.

Natalie sat up with a yawn and pushed a few strands of hair out of her face before stretching her arms over her head in a languid stretch. A few moments later, and she slid to the edge of her bed to stand and padded to the window to push the curtains back and gaze out at the rolling hills of grapevines, grass, and dirt paths. Mist curled along the ground, golden in the morning sunlight, though she knew it would soon burn away as the day grew warmer. Birds were filling the air with song, insects buzzed in the grass, and the air smelled even better when she opened her window the rest of the way and took a deep breath of it. Everything was so peaceful, she mused with a content sigh as she looked across Matt's land.

Lance was already up and overseeing the loading of a cart with wine caskets to be shipped to the warehouse in town where they would be distributed to several bars. Pairs of workers followed his orders as they carefully rolled heavy caskets of wine out to the cart where Matt waited to heft them up onto it and press a seal onto each one. Once the cart was loaded, the workers dispersed to go help in the fields or with other tasks while Lance and Matt convened beside the cart to talk.

Natalie sat on the windowsill and leaned her head against the frame as she watched the two men clearly plan the next few days of work. Lance's arms waved to indicate something out in the southern field with Matt nodding in agreement before tapping the side of the cart. Whatever they were talking about caused Lance to have to think, Natalie figured, as he rocked back on his heels slightly in thought—a common habit of his when whatever he was thinking about didn't require a snap judgement answer or careful leading. Matt seemed content to wait as he busied himself with binding the wine caskets in place with rope and fabric. Finally, they reached an agreement of some sort, and Lance swung up onto the cart and called a shout to get the team moving.

"Must be in charge of actual delivery," Natalie figured aloud as she idly finger combed her hair.

Her eyes tracked Matt as he strode off and out of sight into the workers' lodging. Not for the first time, she felt a flash of immense pride in him even as she felt regret. The swordsman was doing a phenomenal job at heading the vineyard, and he had a certain bounce to his step that made her think he really enjoyed the work. Lance did, too, if his content behavior and words alongside his endless ideas for improvement were anything to go by. The gunner never invested his energy into something he didn't care for—even his friends' interests could only hold his attention for so long. And even Anna apparently had her own place in the operation as the men's go-to aid for when the soil needed an extra boost, or they had a question about plants and flavors.

"Everyone has a role in this but me," Natalie murmured as she looked across the fields again. "They don't even bother to expect me to get up early and help in some way. Not that I'd be much help for anything here, short of the odd injury or ache. Oh, wait, no, I couldn't even do that."

" _You could leave again,_ " a quiet voice suggested in the back of her mind. " _You're healed, now, and know better than to get captured again. You haven't seen any of that supposed love Matt has for you, and it's not like Lance is great with emotions. He could easily have been wrong._ "

Natalie frowned as she moved off the windowsill to actually dress for the day. A simple white blouse with flowing sleeves and a pair of long, gray pants went on in place of the short night gown. She idly straightened the clothing while watching her reflection in the mirror Lance had set up on the vanity for her. Clear blue eyes stared back at her, framed by mussed orange hair. With the scars covered by cloth, she still looked mostly normal, especially since Matt had healed the wounds on her face and neck before they could scar. The long sleeves and pants hid the marks he hadn't been able to fix, and she could almost pretend she hadn't been tortured.

Her frown deepened as she ran a brush through her hair. If her magic was accessible, then she could heal even the deepest, most disfiguring scar. As it was now, she couldn't even heal a paper cut. Not that it mattered at all. Being beautiful was more of a hinderance than a help in her line of work—it was even dangerous if she couldn't defend herself. A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts and she realized she'd been compulsively brushing the same section of hair for the past several minutes.

"It's open," Natalie called, setting her brush down to begin making the bed.

The door opened to allow Matt inside and she briefly smiled a greeting at him as she stretched the sheets flat.

"Good morning," Matt said in a slightly odd voice.

Natalie glanced up in confusion from where she was tucking the top sheet under the mattress. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Matt promised quickly. His cheeks flushed lightly as he added, "Just not used to seeing you with your hair down completely is all. It, um, i-it looks nice."

It was an honest statement. She had worn her hair half braided, half loose before, but never all loose. It was longer than he'd realized, hanging nearly to the small of her back in gentle waves while her bangs were brushed to each side of her face with a few pieces in her eyes. That, paired with the casual loose clothing gave her a very gentle, relaxed look that made his heart thrum happily.

"Oh," Natalie said in a surprised and awkward voice. "Thanks. I just haven't gotten around to tying it up, yet. I... woke late again. Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Matt refused calmly as he moved to sit on the bench under the second window. "You need rest to recover, I know that. Besides, Lance and I have everything under control here."

"I know," Natalie quietly agreed as she set her pillows in place and smoothed a wrinkle out of the coverlet with one hand. Her head ducked a little as she quietly added, "But I need to feel like I'm useful, which I don't, and I'm not."

Matt hesitated with a hint of upset. He could understand the need to be doing something productive, especially when recovering from something bad. But what could Natalie do with no magic? Designating her the house maid would be demeaning and ultimately boring for her high intelligence. Cooking was already taken care of by Peter, and the manservant hated having anyone in the kitchen with him while he cooked. Errands to town wouldn't do—she still refused to say why she'd been held prisoner, or anything about who had captured her, or why. It wasn't safe to send her out on her own. Then a brilliant idea occurred to him.

"Would you like to come learn about the flavoring and distilling processes?" Matt suggested. "I'm trying to get a second opinion, and Lance's tastes and preferences are too similar to my own."

"Sure, why not?" Natalie agreed with a sigh. "It's not like I'm doing anything else, after all."

And so she spent the day shadowing Matt as he explained about the different parts of the various boilers and distillers, and ideas he'd had for flavors and additions. Natalie had to admit that it was pretty interesting, and she loved being able to taste the new wines. Plus, for a person who pressed wine, Matt loved to make fun of wine snobs, and they spent a good portion of their tastings inventing more and more ridiculous ways to describe how the wine looked, tasted, and smelled.

"Hmm... It has a hint of... pungent bath powder," Natalie mused dramatically as she smacked her lips. "I do believe I detect a slight nose of Lance's socks, too."

"And here I thought we'd fixed the laundry mistake," Matt lamented in a joking tone as he sipped a different glass and made a face. "Yuck, this tastes like how catnip smells." He bent close to peer at the carefully noted card Lance had left detailing number of presses and additives. "Alright, so no more mint effusion in the wine. At least, not this much."

"Or maybe NoLegs would like it? You could expand your market to include animals" Natalie suggested with an amused smile as she tried another glass. After a moment she made a sound of appreciation. "Oo, I like this one. It's got just a little bit of a butter flavor with some apple. Kind of reminds me of wintertime by a fire."

Matt let out a short laugh. "Ha! You're beginning to sound like the real snobs, Natz. But, yeah, Anna suggested we press green apple skins with the grapes, so we did it on a third press just before tossing the rest. Not sure where the butter flavor came from, though."

"Well, I like it," Natalie stated decisively as she siphoned a little more for herself. "I'd buy a skin or three of this in a heartbeat."

Matt leaned against one of the posts supporting the ceiling of the shed and watched Natalie with a smile. A light flush from alcohol was just rising on her cheeks and she looked immensely relaxed and very happy. Of course, he'd have to end happy hour pretty soon, before she actually got drunk. Plus he needed to sharpen some stakes for Lance to use to plot a new wine cellar, and he still had to do a final count of the remaining wine currently aging. By then, Lance should be back, and they could figure out something interesting and useful that Natalie could do. After all, he didn't want her being so unhappy she started thinking about leaving again.

His smile faded some at the mere thought of going back to not having Natalie in his life. Realistically, everything had been 'fine' for him the first time. Fine, but not. He'd been anxious, sad, and inexplicably tired. Plus, Natalie had been being tortured. So, really, things hadn't been ' _fine_ '.

"Matt? You okay?" Natalie suddenly asked.

He blinked in surprise to see her standing right in front of him with a worried frown. Somehow, he'd managed to miss the fact that she'd moved and that she had the back of her hand on his forehead to check for a fever. Her eyes glittered with concern and he held his breath at how close she was—close enough that he could see the light green surrounding her pupils that shifted to a clear and beautiful blue. Before he knew what he was really thinking or doing, he leaned down a little bit and pressed his mouth to hers.

Natalie froze at the sudden kiss and her heart skipped three beats before beginning to race. The hand she'd had on his forehead made it's way past his cheek and down to clench in his shirt. There was a stilted newness in both their motions as she tilted her head slightly for better contact, and Matt's fingers barely brushed against her back as he held her. It was as though he thought too tight of a grasp would hurt her.

In reality, he wanted to leave an easy escape for her, just in case this wasn't something she wanted. Hell, until that moment, _he_ hadn't even _realized_ that this was what he'd wanted. Warmth prickled his cheeks and he let out a soft sigh through his nose when Natalie pressed a little closer, and his arms held her a little tighter.

Then the door to the shed opened and they sprang apart with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, staring at each other and then at the newcomer. Lance stood frozen in the doorway with a crate in his hands and wide eyes of his own, clearly having not expected them to be there, and certainly not kissing. They all stared at each other for a few moments, frozen in surprise and embarrassment. Then, with a slight cough, Lance awkwardly backed out the door again and nudged it shut with his foot, all without a single word from any of them.

Natalie didn't think her face could get any hotter as she stared at her feet with her heart still beating a little too fast. Matt was unnervingly silent beside her, though she could just see his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt out of the corner of her eye. The nervous habit caused her to both smile and feel a little worse.

"I, um..." she mumbled before blowing out a shaky sigh. "Thanks for the wine?"

"You're... welcome?" Matt haltingly replied. His eyes were darting to Natalie's face and away again—specifically to her lips. "Thanks for the kiss? I... I didn't realize... Um, I mean..."

"I liked it," Natalie interrupted in a whisper. She still didn't raise her head as she added in a small voice. "It wasn't just the wine talking, right? I- I've wanted you to kiss me for years, so if it was just the wine..."

Matt's face slowly brightened into a brilliant smile, but his motions were still hesitant as he reached out to tilt her head up with two fingers on her chin. There was a painful amount of uncertainty in her eyes and her cheeks were bright red. He couldn't resist bending down for another kiss and his head spun at the sweetness of it.

"If this is the wine talking, then I never want anything else ever again," he murmured as he pulled back. He smiled sheepishly as he added, "Well, anything else except you."

Natalie snorted out a laugh even as her heart thudded. "That was corny."

"Did it work?" Matt asked with a widening smile.

Another laugh from Natalie followed by her tugging on his shirt to pull him down for a third kiss was answer enough. Her eyes were positively shining and her lips slightly swollen when they parted again. "What about bacon and beer?"

"Hmm, wine, beer, bacon, swords..." Matt began listing with a twinkle in his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to cram you in there with the rest of the stuff I love."

Natalie's eyes widened at the undeniable confession. For a few moments, all she could do was stare at him in silence. "Love?" she finally squeaked.

Worry sparked in Matt's features. "Is it too early for that?"

"No, no, no!" Natalie hurriedly replied with a shake of her head. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed, mostly to herself, "Love... I can't believe it..."

They stood there in silence for a long time before Natalie stood back.

 **OOOOOO**

"Matt isn't in right now, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you waiting until he gets back," Natalie told the couple outside the door.

She stood back to let them in, and shut the door behind them before leading them to the sitting room. Once they were settled, she trotted off to get them some drinks and a tray of fruit slices, crackers, and cheese. When she came back, the pair were studying the fields out the windows with critical expressions. They didn't turn when Natalie cleared her throat.

"So, um, how do you know Matt again?" Natalie asked as she set the snacks down.

The man was the one who replied, tucking his hands into his pockets. "He's our son. When we heard he'd finally quit being a child to continue the family business, we came to see what kind of disaster he was running."

Natalie twitched slightly at the blatant insults. "Excuse you, but he is doing a phenomenal job."

"Who are you, his mistress?" the woman, Matt's mother, asked with distaste. Her expression was snide when she turned and ran her eyes up and down Natalie with judging expression.

Natalie flushed from embarrassment and anger at the implication, and she regretted ever letting the couple inside. "I'm his girlfriend, not his mistress," she coldly replied, "and I don't think he would approve of the title. In fact, I think it would be better if you were to go to town and purchase a room until he returns."

The pair ignored her, instead strolling past to head for the back door. Their voices drifted back to where Natalie stood stiff with fury.

"Come, dear, let's inspect the facilities in this branch."

As soon as the door was shut, Natalie flipped her middle finger at them out the window, and flopped on the sofa to eat some of the ignored snacks. Their behavior was beyond unacceptable, and she couldn't believe Matt had grown up their son. He acted nothing like them. Spitefully, she hoped they fell in a muddy hole before he got back.

Four hours later, and she'd holed herself up in the distillery, unable to rightfully throw Matt's parents out of his house when they'd returned with snide remarks about him, her, their relationship, the size and productivity of the vineyard... On and on. The only silver lining was that Lance and Matt were the only ones with keys to the storage facilities where the aging wine was and where the pressers were, so she'd been able to tell them that, no, they were not welcome to see the stores. A few of the workers had approached her, all but begging her to send the guests away. She'd apologized and told them she'd speak with Matt.

"There you are, Natz."

Natalie looked up from where she'd been drawing aimlessly in the dust on a wooden table. Matt was standing in the door, smiling widely at her. Already, she felt tension leak out of her body at his beaming smile, and she stood up to give him a hug. He smelled faintly of sweat, from working in the hot autumn weather, but he was dry to the touch and energetic enough to lift her off her feet a little ways before letting go and standing back.

"What're you doing holed up in here?" Matt asked as he looped his arm around her waist to guide her out of the dusty shed.

"Avoiding your parents," Natalie muttered bitterly.

Matt stiffened at that and his arm dropped off her waist in shock. "My parents? They're here?"

"Roaming the place as if they own it, and insulting everyone and everything in sight," Natalie confirmed with a sigh. "Your workers want them gone, by the way."

Matt frowned as he noticed she was avoiding his eyes, and one of her hands had come up to rub her arm in a familiar gesture of discomfort. "What did they say to you?" he asked quietly.

"Everything from asking if I'm your mistress to calling me a country sow," Natalie dully replied as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Her eyes were vulnerable as she looked up him. "You don't think I'm a sow, do you?"

"Hm... no, no I don't," Matt assured with mock-serious consideration. "You're much too pretty to be a sow." He leaned over to press a sweet kiss near her ear when she didn't look convinced, and added, "And you're the most beautiful woman in the world to me."

"Flatterer," Natalie laughed with pink cheeks as she shoved him away. Her eyes were back to sparkling as she smiled up at him, "But flattery will get you everything. How was the delivery?"

"Long. I'm glad to be back," Matt sighed, then made a face. "I'd be gladder to not have to deal with the snots I sometimes call my parents. I'm sorry you got stuck dealing with them first. And don't worry, they're always that enchanting."

"I didn't even make the connection until your dad said you're their son. They don't look or act anything like you."

Matt shrugged again. "I'm adopted—one of seven. Mom's sterile, so no kids, and they needed someone to carry on the family business. I think it eventually turned into kid collecting, honestly."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _So I'm sorry for the super long absence. I made the mistake of taking two upper level accounting courses at once, and ended up having to teach myself a third one due to crappy teacher syndrome, and the stress is kicking my ass. On top of that, hours at work have been long both due to holiday season and being short-staffed—never a good combination. I've basically had a full time job and full time class load with self-tutoring. And now finals are next week. Joy. Long story short, don't expect anything for a couple more weeks as I unwind (not that I think many of you are expecting much from me in the way of regular updates)._

 _As for The Long Road Home and Shadow of the Blight, I wish I could promise a timely update on either, but I've been having a hard time digging up the enthusiasm to write them. Luckily, I've taken a couple afternoons/evenings to revisit some of my favorite fantasy RPGs and books, and they've done wonders for my plot bunnies. A few ideas have formed, and one has been jotted down for SotB, so fingers crossed. :3_

 _Anyway, this thing is another one of my many incomplete things that just float around my computer and iPad, jumping from plot point to plot point as my brain wants to write. It's not on my list of ones I'd like to complete, but unlike most of the other ones, it has directions it could go in, which is nice. I've had this one for a awhile, like maybe a half a year now? It's more polished than most of my stuff, but still has plenty of awkward sentences, and probably typos, too. Once again, typed entirely on my iPad, so autocorrect endlessly tries to "help" my writing._

 _ **RESPONSES TO GUEST REVIEWERS** :_

 _ **Jason** : I don't think it ever says Sarah is Anna's younger sister anywhere in game. At one point, the wiki for EBF listed them as sisters, but I'm not sure why. I just decided to use the idea for giggles, and it ended up working out for Retribution. :P_

 _And, yes, I follow Kupo's updates very closely (I even made a Twitter account to comment on some of his stuff. XD). Already just looking at the gifs he's been releasing spark some plot bunny urges. XD_

 _ **Anonymous** : For Lance blowing up hjs factory, I've always considered Lance to go into a a sort of panic-shutdown mindset when something really stresses him out. Realistaically, ere was no reason to detonate his factory (apart from my REALLY wanting to write that dialogue) since there's no way Valarie could have really known it was his. And yes, the smoke and fire will be what brings his fiancé running. XD_

 _I think Inalready ruined my "triumphant return" by taking so long to update again. :P_

 _ **Little Follower** : I'm always looking forwards to your reviews, but I can hardly complain if they take a long time to be put down. ^^;_

 _As for your comments on the currency in TLRH, I haven't forgotten. I just don't have anyway to contact you outside of the A/Ns. I had always had the idea that most people in that universe are relatively selfish and unlikely to correct the mistake of overcharging. Obviously mindset that doesn't apply to the nice elderly farmers Natalie stayed with, though. I wish I could say there was a good reason for it, but honestly, the fact that the gold the team uses would likely be different from whatever currency Garthram uses didn't occur to me until several chapters in. :P I'm not going to go back and fix it since I can hardly get myself to just update the blasted story, so we'll just pretend the elderly couple didn't know how much Natalie had paid them until after she'd left. :P_

 _Anyway, please leave me some reviews and pray I survive._


	11. Time (Rated K)

**Working Title** : Time

 **Genre** : General

 **Rating** : K+

* * *

"You'll want to talk to Nana," the young boy chirped, bouncing in place, his fingers still curled around his mother's. "She knows everything!"

"Hush, Darren," his mother soothed. She lifted her eyes back to the uncertain team and added kindly, "He's right that Nana may be able to help you, though. She's very old and experienced, with an impressive knowledge of the area. I don't know how helpful she'll be with getting you home, but she may be able to point you to these... mana spouts... you're looking for."

"Thank you," Matt sighed. "Where does this Nana live?"

"Just head straight through the village and follow the dirt trail up to the cliff side. Her home is carved into the stone at the base. Look for the flowers, you can't miss them."

The four nodded and continued walking. All around them, the villagers bustled about in lazy peace. A few kids could be seen chasing each other, a dog was laying in the shade not far from the children, sleepily keeping an eye on them. A few women were pinning up laundry for drying. Three men were working together to haul a frame for a house upright and held it in place while a slender woman nimbly clambered around the beams to lash them in place. It was a pleasant, calm village, and incredibly different from much of the rest of the world.

"How old and senile do you think this 'Nana' is?" Lance asked as they stepped out of the way of a trundling cart.

"Probably a generation or two older than the rest," Natalie mused. "I wonder if her name is actually Nana, or if that's just what the villagers call her?"

Matt shrugged, "I don't particularly care, as long as she can get us home."

"Hey, Lance, that kid looks like a mini you!" Anna suddenly laughed, pointing at a young boy sitting on a stone wall with a tangle of wires in front of him.

Shaggy red hair hung to the boy's ears and he was dressed in all black, and he couldn't have been older than nine or ten. It looked as though he was trying to figure out the best way to connect the wires in his hand to a small bulb and a steel box. Lance arched a brow at him and then shoved Anna.

"Please, I know better than to let wires get so tangled up," he scoffed.

Anna shoved him back, "I said he looks like you, not that he is you, jerk."

The boy abruptly lifted his head as if he'd heard them and twisted to look behind him in their direction. Dark blue eyes glared at them in an expression eerily similar to the gunner's before he gathered his tools and scraps up and leapt off the wall opposite of them, vanishing into a house.

"You don't have any illegitimate children running around, do you?" Natalie asked skeptically. "'Cuz that kid could totally be yours."

Lance flushed even as he glared at the mage. "Excuse you, but I'm careful when I take women to bed, thank you very much. So, no, I don't have any kids running around." He shuddered as though the mere thought of having children was repulsive.

"If you say so..."

The team was now past the village and trekking up a steady hill toward the looming cliffs. The path was well-worn with logs sunken into it for extra traction, and it didn't take them long at all to reach the crest. As they'd been told, flowers of all colors dominated the ground in front of the cliff. A simple wooden door was set in the stone, and vines grew all over the wall. Rows of vegetable plants were just blooming a short distance away, and a small fountain gurgled by a chair and a table.

An elderly woman was sitting in the chair. Her hair was pure white, and her skin was wrinkled and spotted from age. A loose gray dress hung off of slender shoulders, rustling in the breeze. She didn't move at all at their approach, her eyes closed and her head tilted back into the sun.

"That her?" Matt guessed quietly.

"Probably. She looks like she should have croaked ages ago," Lance muttered back.

"Quit muttering over there, squirts, and come greet me properly," the woman suddenly said in a croaking voice.

The four jumped guiltily and stared at her to see she was now staring back. Tired, faded-green eyes studied them, and a single wizened hand rose to beckon them closer.

"Come, come. I don't bite. Much. That's it, closer, now. The eyes don't work so well, anymore, and I like to know who I'm speaking to," the woman chided impatiently. She peered up at them as they finally moved to stand in front of her and she nodded wisely. "Ah... Lost your way, have you?"

Natalie started. "How'd you know?"

"Didn't those brats down there tell you anything? Old Nana knows everything," the woman cackled.

"Right..." Anna mumbled, exchanging a glance with Matt who was grinning and making a subtle cuckoo motion with one finger behind Lance's head. "So can you get us home?"

"I'm already home, can't you see that?" Nana chortled with raised brows, willfully missing their irritable looks. She shifted slightly, stretching her legs, before settling back again. "What do you think of them? Lazy, uninspired lot, eh?"

"They seemed happy to me," Natalie refuted. "Plenty of food, family, and friends."

"Yet not an inkling of true knowledge and wisdom! Not one has gone further than the river in two generations! Shameful."

"I doubt _you've_ gone _anywhere_ in two generation, old hag. Probably longer," Lance grunted. He yelped a second later when a cane smacked his leg, faster than he could see. "Hey, watch it!"

"You deserved that," Matt informed him with a grin.

"I've gone further than you, boy," Nana calmly revealed as though she hadn't just struck him. "You'll travel as far as I over your life, but at this point, I've gone further. Glacial peaks across the seas where sunlight lasts all day, deserts where the sand could scrub your skin from your bones, ancient ruins... So much you've yet to explore!"

"Uh, huh. So about getting us back?" Lance sighed impatiently.

"In due time. All in due time. Matt, be a dear and bring me a cup of water? Just inside on your left."

Matt started, "How do you...?"

"I know everything, remember? Your name is simple. Now get the water. Hurry up."

Matt hesitated for a moment longer before heading inside with a baffled expression. Meanwhile, Nana calmly ordered Lance to retrieve some chairs from a storage cave not far away, and coerced Anna and Natalie into weeding the garden. The team went about the tasks in a state of surprise while Nana watched them in amusement as she sipped on her drink.

"You've got a lot of junk in that cave," Lance stated when he came back with four folded chairs.

"Yes. Old, useless garbage, now, but precious mementos. I let the little ones in the village dig through there every spring and bits and pieces vanish, but never enough to empty it out."

"Mementos of your journeys?" Natalie asked as she wiped her hands clean in the fountain.

"Some. A few are keepsakes of dear friends of mine. A toy or two are from my late husband, along with a mountain of his junk."

"Why live up here by yourself? Aren't any of the people down there your children?" Anna asked.

"Of course. All of my children settled here, though none live there now. I have many grandchildren and great-grandchildren, of course, but they don't have much time for relics," Nana agreed in a wistful tone, her eyes distant as she looked towards the village. She shook herself and shrugged. "I'm happier here, entertaining the kids with tales and toys—and they don't nag me that I'm going to croak any day now. It won't be for much longer, anyway."

"Are you sick?" Matt asked uncertainly. "You look pretty good for your age."

"Ha! I look like a wrinkled prune, but thank you for the effort," Nana laughed. "I'm healthy enough for now, but everything stops eventually, even stubborn, hundred and forty-five-year-old, women. Gotta make it another five to win my bet, though."

"Bet?" Anna repeated curiously.

"My rotten twit of a husband said I wouldn't make it past fifty, and I told him I'd do him three times better," Nana chuckled. She flexed her fingers with a faint wince and added dryly, "I imagine he's laughing at me. Would have been a lot easier and left a much prettier corpse if I'd died at fifty. If someone tells you making it to one hundred is impressive, let them know you met a crazy old lady who made it half again as old and says it isn't all it's cracked up to be, and regretted it."

"I'll keep it in mind," Lance snorted. "Now about getting back home?"

"Tsk. So impatient! Can't even spend twenty minutes keeping an old woman company?" Nana tutted. Still, she pushed herself upright and leaned heavily on her cane. "Adventures wait for no hero, though. Come on, then. Before I send you on your way, I must give you a gift."

The four followed the stooped, hobbling woman inside. Shelves lined with books and knickknacks covered the walls, and plants grew in every room. Glowing crystals lit the space, and the air smelled faintly of baking and herbs. Nana hobbled past the rooms to a small storage room where she tapped a box on a shelf above her head with her cane. It was small and ornately carved, and clearly very old.

"I meant to move it down before you arrived, but no matter," Nana sighed as she accepted the box when Matt retrieved it for her.

She then sat down on a large truck with the box on her lap. The hinges creaked when they were opened and inside, under a folded paper, sat four identical pendants made of smoothed crystal. Nana reverently ran a single finger over the stones, lost in thought, then offered them to her guests.

"These are yours," she murmured. When the others hesitated, she shook the box slightly. "Take them! Keep them close. They will help you, protect you. You will need them to return home."

Finally, Anna carefully pulled one from the box. A fine chain made of mythril links tumbled loose and she stared at the stone, feeling a gentle humming from it, then clasped it around her neck. The others did the same, though with airs of immense confusion. Nana set the box aside and beamed at them.

"Heartstones are rare, so don't lose them," she lectured. "I received one after a most strange adventure and it served me well for the rest of my life until I retired. Simple mark and recall spells, wards, charms, and vitality spells are woven into the stone and chain. They will surely prove useful to you. Ah, and for you, Anna."

Anna started as the folded paper was thrust into her hands.

"Don't open it just yet! Wait until you're home. Everything will... well, not make sense, perhaps... but it will make more sense than things do now. Do try to avoid fluctuations in your futures."

In the next moment Nana's entire form glowed and the storage room was illuminated by a bright flash of light. When the light cleared, Nana was alone.

"Ah, to think I looked that good once," she breathed to herself through a laugh as she stood up. "And to think he was ever such a rude jerk. Oh, wait, he always was."

Her feet led her to her bedroom where she relaxed into her sheets with a tired sigh.

"Well, I've played my last part. Never thought the spell would be so tiring, though..." she murmured as she rolled into her side to stare at a faded photograph on her side table.

Bright green eyes sparkled back at her a little below happy crimson ones. Anna stood in the photograph with Lance's arm around her waist and a bundle in her arms. Around their necks were the pendants they'd just received. Nana smiled slightly and shut her eyes.

"I suppose a hundred and fifty was bragging, wasn't it, Lance?" she sighed. "You got the last laugh after all."

And with a soft exhale, Anna finally passed from the world.

 **OOOOOO**

Elsewhere, the team was standing in an empty cave. Sunlight guided them outside and they blinked in a confused sense of deja vu at the sight below. A flat grassland stretched out before them with a winding river just visible to the south.

"Are we back?" Natalie finally asked, stepping a little further forwards.

"Dunno, but if we have to hike back to the batty old woman, I'm gonna be pissed," Lance growled.

Anna blinked a few times before her eyes narrowed. "Wait... We haven't gone anywhere. See? There's that canyon we crossed."

Matt shaded his eyes and peered in the direction Anna was pointing. "Huh, it might be. Where's the village, though?"

"Maybe that note Nana gave you can help us?" Natalie suggested after a moment.

Anna looked down at the paper and unfolded it. A split second later and her eyes widened in shock and she sucked in a sharp breath. "It... It's us..."

"What?" Lance asked in confusion as he stepped up to her side to peer over her shoulder.

Matt and Natalie crowded close to see for themselves and all of them stiffened. The note was, in fact, a worn and yellowed photograph of the team in Greenwood. Each of them were grinning at the camera with varying gestures of victory and success. Behind them was the altar of Greenwood with the Jewel on top of it.

"Wait..." Anna murmured as she dug into her adventure pouch. She pulled out another photograph, one she and the others had had taken after they'd beaten Godcat, and held it up beside the one she'd received from Nana. They were the same picture.

"Wait, then Nana..." Natalie whispered in surprised comprehension.

"No way..." Matt breathed. "Isn't time travel impossible?"

Lance remained staring at the two photos as he murmured, "In theory, no. The means haven't been discovered, and the people who've tried generally haven't survived, though. Which means we are beyond stupidly lucky."

Anna's hands were trembling as she re-folded the photos. Nana was _her_ , only over a hundred years in the future. She hadn't even recognized herself, and her brain still had a hard time comprehending the entire idea.

"I- I think I need to sit down," Anna mumbled. And she did just that, collapsing to sit in the grass, staring at her knees. "One hundred and forty-five... gods, how the hell do I manage that?"

Lance snorted, "Really good genetics? Don't worry about it, Anna. You're barely in your twenties. You've got a whole hundred and thirty years to figure it out."

"They weren't all my... grandkids... were they?" Anna wondered aloud, not entirely listening. "I don't even _want_ kids!"

"Again: you're barely in your twenties. It's a little early to be thinking about kids, and you might change your mind about the idea later. Quit worrying about it. You'll probably screw everything up by trying to match the future, anyway."

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again. Maybe Lance was right, she mused. Nana- she- whatever... nothing had been said to indicate that she should be trying to mold herself into some kind of role. Besides, she apparently had a ton of exploring to do, still. It seemed like everything had worked out in the end, anyway. She'd been respected, comfortable, and in close contact with her immediate family, even if she'd outlived her future... past... whichever... husband.

"You're right. After all, who knows if I'll even make it to that future?" Anna sighed as she stood up again.

"Exactly. Now come on, if we're actually back in our world, then it's going to be a long hike back to civilization," Matt encouraged.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : Just a little thing that's been floating around on my iPad. It will never be finished, nor added to, but it was fun to write and an interesting, if slightly cliché, idea._

 _Writing for my chapter fics is going very slowly, but I've got about 3k words down for SotB with a goal of 5k, so hopefully an upload soon. Sorry for the delays, and for any of you worried I've gone MIA or on unspoken hiatus. I have a super duper long thing I've been working in that I may throw up here pretty soon, so keep an eye out for that._

 _Replies to guest reviewers:_

 _ **Little Follower** : You, um, double posted several weeks apart. How'd that happen? 0.o_

 _I have over half a dozen back stories for Matt. XD He has nothing in the games, yet, so he's easy to write back stories for. On a related note: you may be happy to hear I've started passively writing a Brawl Royale fic, where Matt has a back story as a gladiator._

 _Yeah, I can't stay away from the angst for long. :P I live for it. XD_

 _Sexy Times with a trauma victim is just ick, so matter where it happens—hot springs included. I've been focusing on romantic fluff for a long while now, so it's good to hear I'm doing well there. :3 As for the writing style, Vinyard was the start of my more refined/polished writing, which I more or less stuck with. Most of my uploads will read more like it._

 _ **Jason** : Hahaha! Nice sum up. XD_

 _ **Anonymous** : Thank you! I do all my own editing now, so I'm glad I'm catching the majority of the errors. :3_


	12. Guardians (Rated M)

_**WARNING DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED/UNCOMFORTABLE READING BLOOD, SUICIDE, DEATH, OR BAD LANGUAGE!**_

 _ **A/N** : Brace yourselves for a long-ass, word vomit, angst-ridden piece of work. X^X Long enough to be a novel, and not complete by a long shot. Figured I might as well put it up now as a promise that I'm still writing, just in other places. If this ever gets completed someday, I'll take it down with just a section left as a preview and and author's note to say where it's gone. Take your time, take breaks, leave a review and enjoy!_

 **Working Title** : Guardians

 **Genre** : Romance/Angst/Hurt-Comfort/Adventure

 **Pairings** : Lance x Anna & Matt x Natalie

 **Rating** : M

 **Warnings** : Language, blood, suicide, sexual themes, sex, death, (little OOC)

* * *

"I thought I told you three not to come here."

The three in question jerked up in surprise, dripping and breathless from the rainstorm they'd sprinted through. They hadn't expected anyone to be inside the ominous cave, and they certainly hadn't expected Matt to be there. Each of them had been sure they'd given him the slip. Yet there the swordsman was, sitting on the steps before the worn altar with Heaven's Gate resting against one leg. His eyes were cold in a way they'd never seen before.

"And yet, somehow, I'm not surprised you tried to break in here after all," the swordsman went on in that same level, detached voice, not waiting for their replies. "You've never listened to me when it really mattered. You didn't the last dozen times, either."

Lance cautiously straightened up with his eyes warily fixed on Matt's face. He was sensing something from swordsman he'd never really felt before: a killing intent.

"You're here to stop us—kill us, if necessary," the gunner stated in a low voice.

Natalie and Anna each jerked, their eyes widening in incredulous disbelief at his words.

"Matt would never-!"

Natalie's protest was cut off by Matt.

"I am," Matt agreed in that same unnaturally flat voice. "Unless you turn around right now and never come back."

He hadn't stood up, or even moved in any threatening way, yet each of his friends tensed. The very idea of Matt attacking them seemed impossible. Even back when Lance had first faced them down, the swordsman had focused on the Valkyrie rather than the pilot. Spars between him and the others could be heated and wild, but never overly serious. And even back then, he had never looked so coldly determined to fight them. There was a glint in his eyes now that was almost cruel.

"What's so important about this altar?" Anna finally asked, if only to shed some light on the matter. And to stall for time.

Flames suddenly burst to life in the sconces on either side of Matt and he stood up, unsheathing his sword. His face was thrown into shadow, while the silvery blade glinted red from reflected flames. The blade spun in a circle once, forming a flickering wheel of fire as he firmed his grip.

"Last chance."

Natalie took an uneasy step back with utter betrayal playing across her features. A part of her mind was protesting this entire situation, insisting that she must be trapped in a dream—or a nightmare. There was no other explanation for their trusted friend to be so set on attacking them. And he would, she was certain. She'd known him for years, and every minute detail and signal she'd ever learned from him told her he was dead serious about this. Some tiny corner of her whimpered in terror, certain without knowing why, that they would lose a fight with him.

It didn't matter anymore: glowing swords suddenly dropped across their exit, trapping them in the altar room with Matt. Perhaps fittingly, lightning flashed and thunder boomed at the same moment.

Lance didn't seem to have any reservations as he readied his gunblade. Anna dropped back some for range as she shouldered her bow around and nocked three arrows on the string, imbuing them with mana. Natalie doubted she looked as ready as them as she took a shaky grip on her staff and cast a powerful barrier spell on her allies, for all the good it would do.

Matt leapt forwards in a blindingly fast, zigzagging pattern paired with a bewildering flash of light. The unusual assault coupled with the ruining of their vision caused Anna's arrows to miss and Lance's bullets to whiz harmlessly past him. The thorns that were summoned next to slow him instantly incinerated in a pulse of mana far stronger than any they'd ever felt from him.

Lance barely brought his weapon up in time to parry the killing stroke that came at his neck. Even then, he was flung clear off his feet and into a wall, dazed, but alive. A lightning bolt hit him a second later, and he shrieked in surprise. Though he hadn't seen it, Matt had caught the bolt Natalie had sent at him on his blade and redirected it to the gunner. He shook his head to clear the stars and twitching as he staggered to his feet, only to choke on a mouthful of blood as a multitude of ethereal swords showered down into his torso. He barely heard Anna's scream of his name over the over-loud thumping of his heart in his ears. Everything seemed to grow dark alarmingly quickly, and he slumped limp.

Matt hadn't even looked as he moved on in his assault to Anna, who looked honestly terrified of him. Natalie seemed wary of launching spells at him, having seen what he'd done with her lightning. Still, he could sense her mana swelling to heal—or possibly revive—Lance, and he cut that off, too. A barrier formed around the dying gunner, cutting him off from any outside sources of mana, even as Heaven's Gate shore through Skyfeather, leaving Anna with two useless pieces of bone and wood attached by a string. A stab through her chest took her down before she could cry out, and he shouldered her off his blade to topple to the floor.

Natalie backed against the cold stone of the wall by the entrance, shaking as Matt's unnaturally cold eyes turned on her. There was nothing there that even remotely resembled her gentle, funny, and caring friend. None of them had ever known exactly how deadly their friend really was—and perhaps he'd misled them on purpose, just in case this very scenario came to pass. Blood was splattered across his face and stained his sword and hands—her friends' blood, her family's blood.

And soon her blood, too, she knew.

Yet something in her snapped, breaking her past the terror that had frozen her limbs, and she let out an unearthly shriek along with a pulse of mana so strong it blasted Matt back. Tears poured down her cheeks as she wildly lashed out with her magic, slashing and flaring in terror and rage. One or two hit Matt, splashing his blood onto the ground to join his former teams', but it didn't stop him from raising a hand that trembled ever so faintly. A summoned sword flashed through the air, between the tendrils of magic, and sank into Natalie chest, killing her just as effectively as he had Anna.

The entire battle had lasted less than five minutes. Matt's knees met the ground at the same time Natalie's body did. He retched, even though there was nothing in his stomach, and let out a piercing wail. It had been his blood duty, unwilling though it was, to defend this site. The thought that he'd spared his friends the terrors that would have enjoyed feasting on their bodies and minds wasn't even a cold comfort. He cursed the rumor that had planted the idea to come here in his friends minds, he cursed his friends for refusing to listen to him, and he cursed himself for making the choice to kill them. Even the next crackle of thunder couldn't drown out his cries.

" _You aren't strong enough for revival magic, little one._ "

Matt stiffened and unconsciously raised his head to see an echo of a long dead woman holding a younger version of him in her lap. This was why he hated this place—it always taunted him with happier days in a way that reminded him just how useless he was. Not that his despair ever stopped the visions; not even after lifetimes of enslavement to this place.

" _But what if something happens to you? Or to dad? I'll be the only one who even knows what you need!_ "

The echo of his own childish voice sounded, and he let out another broken sob, even as he listened to the next words of the echo of his mother.

" _Nothing will happen. You'll be strong enough to stop everything bad. That's why you're learning to use a sword, remember?_ "

"Not that having a sword was ever enough," Matt whimpered as his eyes moved past to where Natalie's corpse bled onto the stone. " _I_ was never enough, so why did the gods choose me to guard this place?"

He'd asked himself that thousands of times since his parents had been slaughtered defending the thrice-damned altar behind him. He'd been enough to stop the marauders then, but not enough to save his family. And he hadn't been enough to stop his friends—not in the way he had so desperately wanted. And he wasn't enough to bring them back now.

Then a memory drifted through his mind of when Natalie had been helping Lance and Anna hone their magical abilities. He'd bowed out of the lesson, not wanting to reveal just how skilled he already was in the artes. So much of it had been more technical than he'd cared to hear about, too, but still a lecture stuck out in his mind.

Lance had been asking why he couldn't just use a mana crystal to give his spells a boost rather than waste hours every day building his focus, reserves, and control.

" _Conduits and mana crystals can be used to enhance or focus your magic, yes, but it comes at a cost_ ," Natalie had scolded. " _I've met people who've wiped their own minds, burned out their mana, and worse. There are even stories of people erasing themselves from existence. No, you're better off doing it the hard way. Besides, such crystals are impossibly rare to begin with, anyway._ "

Matt's eyes unwittingly drifted to one of many such crystal littering the altar from past offerings. Could he use one to revive his friends? They would hate him regardless, of course, but he couldn't stand to leave them dead. Besides, potentially erasing himself didn't sound like such a bad punishment for so utterly betraying them.

In less than two minutes, he'd moved their cold and stiffening bodies to the center of the room. He'd given a snarky apology to whatever misguided fool had placed the crystal he'd swiped from the altar, uncaring of the blaspheme of a theft from the divine. He'd never much cared for when and what he stole. Prayers at the altar behind him had never ended well, anyway. Besides, the gods owed him for his centuries of service.

His own blood made the trail to his friends to connect each of them to the crystal. He didn't bother healing the gash on his arm. It would close off on it's own before too long, anyway.

"Please work," he murmured as he began pushing all of his healing magic into the conduit.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, and his breathing hitched. Then a painful tug on something intangible inside his core exploded in a brilliant display of white light. He recognized the familiar cross of Gensis forming over his friends, and held his breath even though the world was already spinning. Without even thinking, he sent a prayer to Godcat to bring them back—she was the only goddess who'd ever seemed reasonable that he'd spoken to.

And for the first time, his prayers were answered. Each of their bodies gave sharp jerks and jolted upright, gasping wildly as they gaped about them. Matt's eyes filled with tears once more as the glow faded from around him. Even the burning of his mana trails wasn't enough to drop the smile of relief from his face.

The mad scramble of terror away from him did, however. He winced at the understandable reaction and turned his face away. They were alive. It was enough for him.

Lance, Natalie, and Anna huddled together on the far side of the cave, trembling as they watched Matt stand. He swayed on his feet, and had to use Heaven's Gate as a crutch to get fully upright. Then, very abruptly, he hurled his sword behind him, sinking it all the way to the hilt in the front of the altar. A sickly green shimmer spread over the stone before it somehow faded in color from bone white to a dust gray as whatever magic had been in it was dispelled. The stone cracked in half before crumbling to dust, along with the elegant weapon, leaving behind a pile of grit and a few odd objects that had been contained within.

Matt gave a stiff bow to the dust and then strode for the exit to the cave. The god of the altar would strike him down soon, he was sure, and that was fine with him. That altar had been a product of a bygone age, and he wished he'd had the courage to destroy it before he'd destroyed the team. A small part of him bitterly recognized that he'd needed the deadening of his assault to grant him the ability and gall to do such a thing.

"Not even an apology?" Lance suddenly demanded in a pale shadow of his former snipping.

Matt paused at the entrance to the cave, but kept his eyes fixed on the sheets of water still falling from the sky. "The words for an apology capable of making up for what I've done don't exist."

"You _murdered_ us!" Anna spat. "You could at least explain why!"

Natalie said nothing, too afraid that Matt would lash out at them again.

But all that happened was that the swordsman resumed walking. His posture didn't shift, and he vanished into the storm. Each of his friends figured they likely wouldn't be seeing him again anytime soon, if ever.

"Is everyone okay?" Lance finally asked in a low voice.

"Other than more than a little freaked?" Anna muttered. Her hand crept up to where she could feel a phantom blade sinking into her heart. The shirt was still torn under her fingers.

Natalie shook her head even as she brought her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. "I- I n-never thought... H- How could he?"

There was nothing any of them could say to that.

Years passed before they saw Matt again—years filled with regret and nightmares. They'd each wondered what they would say or do if they ever saw the swordsman. They imagined attacking him, breaking down and running from him, demanding answers, crying, apologizing... Hundreds of scenarios had been imagined, but what did occur was the least imagined.

They found Matt at a bar, nursing a drink by himself. They hadn't sensed his mana before entering—in fact, it had been his voice calling for another that had alerted them that he was there. He looked terrible. A bloody bandage was wound around his neck and ran under his clothes, his hair was limp, though not dirty, and his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion with deep lines under them. Swiftbrand leaned against his chair within easy reach, telling them that he was still fighting.

He actually jumped when they forcefully sat down at his table, and blinked in confusion at them before his eyes widened.

"Wh-What are you guys doing here?" he stuttered with a nervous squeak to his voice.

"Drinking, eating, resting up," Lance airily replied before his voice fell into bitter coldness. "Demanding answers you never gave us."

Matt risked taking his eyes off of the piercing glare on him to nod a thanks to the waitress who brought his drink. Once the woman was gone, he let his gaze drop to his beer and shrugged stiffly.

"What does it matter?" he muttered after he'd downed the drink in one go. "I stabbed you in the back. Quite literally. Frankly, I'm surprised you're bothering to talk to me."

"So you think we don't deserve answers?" Anna demanded heatedly.

"What do you want to hear?" Matt tiredly asked as he leaned his cheek on one hand while swirling the bits of ice in his glass, and looking like he'd aged a hundred years in just a few seconds. "Do you want to hear why it was so easy to kill you? Maybe you want to know that I'm bound to obey certain orders? Perhaps you want to be sure I'm being punished?"

"Those would be good starts, yes," Natalie sarcastically agreed.

Inside, Matt was breaking apart again. He'd always known he was a hated figure to them now, but to be given irrefutable evidence to his face was still painful. And he was so tired...

"Fine. You probably won't believe half of what I say, anyway," he murmured. His eyes drifted back up to meet each of theirs' before trailing to the dark window. "I'm thousands of years old. I've killed hundreds of people who called me a friend over the same damn thing I killed you over. It wasn't very different to do it again. Death never had the same meaning to dragons as it does to humans, anyway."

The three sat back slightly in shock, both at the preposterous information and the dead voice Matt relayed it in. But he wasn't done talking.

"My entire lineage is bound to those altars. We guard them with our lives, no matter who we have to fight. Usually, we win. Sometimes we die. You can contact and, to an extent, control a god through those stones, but it comes at a heavy price. I've seen people summon a god only to have their skin flayed off. I've seen demons burst forth to drain a life slowly enough that it takes years to die. I've seen good people go mad with powerlust and slaughter entire nations, rape children, and other atrocities before they're put down. I couldn't let you suffer like that, and I don't have a lot of leeway once a person is that close to an altar."

He didn't look around as they shifted slightly in their seats. He wasn't sure he even cared if it was in understanding, shock, or disgust.

"I destroyed that altar, which means I severed a major conduit for a god. Understandably, they're not happy with me about that. I can't sleep; I haven't slept since that last night we all spent together. Furthermore, the mana crystal I used to revive you burned away my mana, and I still ache from it. But if you've got some other punishment you want to bestow, then feel free. I'll be in the forest to the east for the rest of the week."

With that, he stood up, picked up his sword, and left the building—his left leg was suffering a slight limp. The three people he'd left behind merely watched him go in silence.

"Do we believe him?"

Anna finally asked the question they were all thinking. It was an outlandish tale, after all, and it did little to assuage their fears of him. There had been many nights where one or more of them had woken in a sweat, and had to be reassured that they weren't dead.

 **OOOOOO**

The bloody trail led them straight to Matt. He was kneeling beside a stream, washing out some deep gashes on his legs and torso. He didn't look up at their approach, but his shoulders did tense slightly, so they knew that he knew they were there.

"You don't look like much of a dragon," Lance finally noted as he watched Matt wind a roll of bandage around a leg.

"Of course not. Can you imagine getting anywhere without attracting a mob of hunters if you're a giant, winged lizard covered in gleaming scales, with a reputation of having a giant store of gold and valuables?" Matt grunted as he bit through the bandage to tear it and tied it tight.

He let the tattered pant leg drop down before moving to where he had a metal rod resting in the coals of a small fire. All three watching blanched as Matt pressed the metal to one of the deep gashes on his torso, cauterizing them shut. His teeth gritted and his face went white at the agonizing pain, but he didn't make a sound as the stench of burning flesh filled the air.

"Gods," Natalie breathed too quietly to be heard. She knew Matt knew field medicine, but she would never have thought he would burn his own wounds shut. The healer part of her urged her to offer her magic to help—at least, that's what she told herself as she stepped forwards.

"Let me," she murmured as Matt moved the metal brand to another wound.

He watched her with wary confusion, but lowered the bar back to the flames. A few seconds later, and his injuries were gone.

"Why?" he mumbled as Natalie stepped back quickly, her steps stiff and nervous. "I don't deserve it."

"Habit," Natalie replied equally quietly. "As a healer, I don't like to see people in pain."

"Those wounds were way past your guard," Lance noted cooly. "You slipping up, or is there something dangerous out here?"

Matt shrugged stiffly as he pulled his jacket back on, forgoing a shirt. "No. Just... Just looking for something to put me down. I've been letting injuries accumulate." He looked up with a totally fake smile, his eyes shut as his teeth flashed. "I'll sleep when I'm dead is how the saying goes, right? Besides... It'll probably be a load off you guys' backs to have me gone."

They gaped at him, at his broken smile and dark words. He seemed so close to snapping, and was already well along the path to self destruction. Whether that was because of sleep deprivation or something else... Each of them couldn't help the flash of pity they felt, regardless of what he'd done to them.

"I don't think you dying is going to fix anything," Anna said bluntly. "We'll still have memories, after all."

Matt flinched and his shoulders slumped slightly as his smile flickered before reaffirming itself. He carefully stood up and spread his arms. "Then maybe you should do it? I won't move. Promise."

There was a sort of pleading desperation to his voice now, and when they remained silent, he let his arms and smile fall.

"Th-that's okay," he murmured as he turned away to kick sand over his fire. "Something will get lucky eventually. I- I don't need rest, yet..."

He didn't say anything as they followed him through the trees. They were silent as they shadowed him for the entire day, watching him fight, but never helping. And when night came, they were silent as he built a fire and sat down against a tree with a heavy sigh. The other three sat down across from the fire, still silently watching him.

The atmosphere was tense, filled with unease and the crackles from the fire. Neither side wanted to break the unspoken truce, but Matt finally moved. He dug out a number of sacks and wrapped goods and set about kneading some flat breads and rolling strips of meat in spices. It didn't go unnoticed that he was preparing way more than one person needed.

Soon the smell of cooking meat and baking bread filled the air. Anna quietly stood and vanished into the trees, coming back twenty minutes later with a sack full of ripe berries and some greens to wilt in the fire. Natalie set about seasoning the greens and melting some butter to drizzle over them. Lance readied four plates and dug out three drinks—though, after a moment, he pulled out one more. Soon all of them were eating a delicious meal, but it didn't do anything to make the tension vanish.

"What do you want from me?" Matt asked in a low voice at long last. His eyes were stubbornly fixed on the last bits of meat on his plate. "I'm not your friend, so why follow me around?"

"Maybe... Maybe you can be our friend again," Natalie quietly replied. Her voice fell even further as she added, "I- I think I'd like that."

Despite the hopeful offer, Matt shook his head, seeming to shrink in on himself. "I... I can't. Nothing is the same anymore, and I can't risk having to..."

His words went unspoken, but they all understood. None of them wanted to risk the chance that he'd fight them for keeps, again. There would be no revival this time—they could hardly believe they'd been revived the last time.

"We can at least give it a chance," Lance finally said. His eyes were mistrustful as he watched Matt. "If nothing else, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

 **OOOOOO**

Matt was gone by the time they woke up in the morning. He'd left some food for them, but that was all to show he'd ever been there last night. Anna attempted to track him, but he'd clearly anticipated that because his trail led straight to a swift river, and a brief scout up and down stream showed no signs of where he'd come out. Natalie's shoulders slumped as the realization that he was gone again sank in.

"I just... I thought we could try again," she mumbled. "He's clearly suffered enough."

Lance shrugged bitterly. "He did kill us, remember."

"But he brought us back, and at the cost of his mana," Anna pointed out. "He killed us, but he saved us, too."

 **OOOOOO**

Anna nervously placed the three stolen Jewels onto the pedestals before kneeling to begin praying. Behind her, Natalie and Lance silently watched with their weapons gripped in hand. They'd run out of ideas and ways to find Matt, except this last one, which they only hoped would work.

A brilliant flash illuminated the dark plateau of Godcat's Temple, and Anna tensed even further as she raised her bowed head. A gleaming cat stood there, fixing brilliantly glowing eyes on her.

"Breaking your own people's code, Anna? Far more brash than I'd ever expected from you," Godcat rumbled before her eyes flicked to the other two. "It seems you're missing one. Please don't tell me you summoned me to resurrect that miserable guardian."

Natalie started. "You know what he is?"

"Of course. I may not have recognized him in our latest battle, but being a divine has its perks. I had thought all the guardians were slain," Godcat mewed dismissively before yawning. "And since you three now know what he is, I imagine you must have crossed him. But that cannot be true if you are standing here, alive and well. Unless you killed him?"

"He killed us," Lance corrected coldly. He gestured at the two women with barely concealed disgust. "These two want to find him, despite that. Unfortunately, he's good at avoiding us, and he has no mana, so we can't track him. We were hoping that you, as a god, could find him for us, or at least point us in the right direction."

Godcat sat down and began shaking with her head lowered. It took a long time for the three humans to realize she was laughing at them. Their expressions cooled as her head flung back to let out great yowling cries of utter mirth. Just as abruptly as she'd started, she stopped and her eyes narrowed in a glare.

"If you cannot lie to yourself, human, then do not insult by attempting to lie to me," Godcat hissed. She refused to explain that as she stood up, her tail flicking. "Matt's fate is still beyond my grasp. He is not bound to me, but to the war god. I can find him, perhaps, but to trifle with an ancient wyrm bound to a god of bloody battle and spoils... It is little wonder you four put up such a phenomenal struggled against me, and it is not an experience I wish to repeat."

"I don't understand," Anna mumbled. "How can he be so... old... and a dragon, and none of us knew? He never acted like he was anything but a carefree, battle loving human."

"I imagine he is somewhat insane. Isolation from being cursed to repeatedly kill those close to you can do that to a mind. Perhaps he had fooled himself into believing he was a mere mortal, rather than a sub-divine. Or perhaps he simply has lived among mortals for so long, he can easily impersonate them, or prefers to impersonate them." Her gaze returned from considering the twilight sky to study the three humans watching her. "...But he has erred in more ways than one. You are each... changed. You look not a day older than when we last spoke five years ago. When did he kill you?"

"Just over four years ago," Natalie replied stiffly. "What do you mean he's cursed to kill those close to him? He said something similar, though he didn't call it a curse."

"War is not something that can be won. There is no victor, no happiness, only corpses and loss. His master embodies that truth, and if there can be only loss, then of course Matt would be forced to eventually kill the ones he calls friends. It would be just like the war god to impose that belief on the one sworn to guard him. But for a creature whose greatest held values are loyalty, courage, and strength, then it would be painful, even scarring, to be forced to violate those values," Godcat murmured in a sober voice. Her ears flicked once before she shook herself to dismiss her thoughts. "But we dally on pointless philosophy. If you have not aged in four years, then Matt must have altered something about your bodies that is fundamental to being human. I do not imagine you will ever age again. Unnatural, but it will work in your favors. And regardless of my distaste for him and you, I owe each of you a debt. I will send you to Matt. Once there, inform him that he has been summoned to me. He will be bound to obey. Then... Well, I imagine that will be up to your team. Good luck."

Without giving them a chance to question further, or to protest, Godcat lifted them in the air and with a twitch of her whiskers, teleported them. And though they couldn't see her, her brows furrowed some in concern before she vanished once more.

Godcat had found Matt for them, alright. In fact, they landed on top of him. The swordsman yelped in surprise before squirming out from under them and launching into an attack. His sword stopped half an inch away from a dazed Natalie's neck. Quickly, he pulled the blade away, and took several steps back with wide eyes.

"Owowow," Anna groaned into the ground, held there by Lance's weight on top of her. "Get off me, you lump."

"Sorry," the gunner grunted as he carefully rolled off the stunned ranger.

Natalie sat up not far from him, rubbing the back of her head with one hand and a grimace on her face. It didn't take long for her to notice Matt standing against a tree gaping at them. Instantly her expression brightened with relief, and she scrambled to her feet.

"Matt! It worked!"

"It better have, for this headache to be worth it."

Matt looked torn between laughing at Lance's remark, and hyperventilating as he couldn't tell if they were real of another hallucination. His body picked the second for him, and the next thing he knew he was lying on his back, staring up at a ring of worried faces. The sky was brightening from the approaching dawn, and he realized he must've fallen unconscious. That was a first, though he still didn't feel rested. Did he even know what rested felt like, anymore?

Natalie was talking at him, he sluggishly realized, and staring at him with a baffled expression.

"Where'd the fangs come from?" Natalie repeated for the seventh time when Matt's eyes flitted to hers with confusion.

Instantly, Matt's tongue ran across his teeth, felt his elongated canines, and he shut his eyes with groan.

"Too tired to maintain the disguise," he explained. His eyes opened again and he pushed himself to sit up. A hand appeared in his vision, and he stared at it before looking up at Lance. "Thanks..."

"You look like shit," Lance said by way of reply. There was a noticeable undercurrent of concern in his voice.

"You'd look like shit, too, if you hadn't slept in almost five years," Matt retorted sourly. His temper had worsened since they'd last seen him. "What the hell do you three want this time?"

Natalie opened her mouth to say they'd been worried about him, but changed her mind at the last second. Instead, she bluntly stated, "Godcat told us to tell you you're summoned to her temple."

Matt's eyes widened in surprise. "Godcat? What does she want?"

"No clue. We summoned her to find you, not to make you talk to her," Anna replied, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. "Can we go now? I need to get the jewels back to where they belong. Preferably before I get banished from Greenwood."

Matt looked even more stunned. "You _stole_ the Greenwood jewel? Wow, I never knew you had it in you..."

"Yeah, you're a terrible influence. Can we go now, please?"

Lance pulled Matt to his feet where the blond staggered slightly before standing straight. At first, it looked like he might run, but then he seemed to sag in place and gestured the others to follow. Birds were just beginning to chirp in the trees, and there was a heavy scent of rain in the air.

"Where are we? I don't recognize this forest," Natalie asked as she looked around at the various kinds of fronds she was certain she'd never seen before.

"A continent north and west of Goldenbrick," Matt replied quietly. He was silent for a few paces before adding even more softly, "It's near my den."

"We're on another _continent_?" Lance repeated in a faint voice. He shook his head and muttered, "No wonder we couldn't find you. Sheesh. So how do we get back? Sailing?"

"Sailing would take weeks, maybe longer, with the current wind directions," Matt refuted as he led them out of the trees to a cliff face. "No, I'll fly us back."

"Fly? How are-" Anna started to say before Matt took a running leap off the cliff.

The other three froze in shock before dashing forwards with dismayed cries. A split second later and an enormous golden shape soared past, buffeting them with wind. Gold scales and silver claws and horns glinted in the watery morning light and massive wings beat in the air as Matt carefully lowered himself to the edge of the cliff face. His hind claws settled against the stone below with an earth-shuddering thud while his front claws dug into the stone to hold him in place. Enormous sapphire eyes blinked slowly at the stunned three before the dragon's head jerked.

" _Come on, this is an uncomfortable way to hang,_ " Matt said in their minds. " _Just clamber up my leg to my back and grab on to a spike. You should be warm enough from my body heat while we're flying_."

Anna took the first stiff step forwards, still gaping at Matt, but nimbly stepped up onto his leg—wider than her three times over—and clambered up his side using his scales as hand and footholds. At first, she worried her weight would be uncomfortable to have pulling on his scales, but he didn't even twitch, and she soon put it out of her mind. She marveled at the immense warmth coming from his body, as though there was a great fire burning just under his skin, though the scales and hide were only pleasantly warm to the touch.

Lance clambered up next, just as easily as Anna, wondering all the while how something so large could get airborne—and never mind staying that way. He took a seat behind Anna, and hesitantly curled his fingers around a silver, oblong spire. The edges of the spike were defined, but blunt enough to not cut his fingers, and his feet fit comfortably into chinks in Matt's scales to provide extra support. He wondered if Matt had flown people before.

Natalie didn't have nearly as much luck climbing on. She got onto the golden leg, then made the mistake of looking down. Instantly, vertigo swept over her from how far away the ground was, and she swayed before toppling off. Terror froze her lungs and caused her heart and stomach to rise to her throat where they tied themselves in a knot. But she fell for less than two seconds before jolting to a stop. Heated breaths washed over her, and she looked up to see the tips of Matt's fangs holding her by the back of her dress. Cautiously, he lifted her up and craned his neck around to deposit her in front of Anna, who helped her get settled.

"Thanks," Natalie squeaked breathlessly.

" _You're welcome. Now hold on_."

With just that warning, Matt's legs bunched before he lunged up into the air, spreading his wings again and beating them rapidly until he was safely aloft. His wingbeats steadied to a smooth rhythm, alternating between flapping and gliding. His breathless passengers watched astounded as the ground tilted miles below as the dragon banked a turn before surging forwards. Chilly wind whipped past their faces, tugging at their hair and clothes, but the heat rising from Matt's back more than kept them warm. Soon they were lazily soaring above the sparkling ocean with no land in sight, skimming the swells and waves.

"This is amazing," Anna called over the wind. "I've never gone so fast before!"

An amused thrum rumbled through Matt's body before they felt him tense and launch forwards at an incredibly high speed. All of them fell back against the spikes behind them and were forced to squint their eyes as reflexive tears streamed out from the wind. Still, they could feel the immense speed at which they were traveling.

Matt held that pace for ten minutes before slowing again, riding up and down updrafts off the ocean like a sea bird. His passengers wiped their faces with wide, beaming smiles, unable to remember when they had last felt such exhilaration. Then Matt took a sudden dip for the water, settling into it with an immense splash.

"Sorry," Matt mumbled aloud. "Just... kind of tired... I'll start flying again in a little bit."

Still, he began smoothly swimming forwards using a mixture of an eel-like squirm, and paddling with his legs. It was still faster than any sailing ship, but significantly slower than flying had been. His golden scales glittered under the surface of the water as he powered forwards.

"Rest for a bit," Natalie urged. "You don't have to push yourself to make us happy."

Matt's response was a noncommittal blowing of bubbles in the ocean. He didn't stop swimming, either.

A few hours passed in silence with the only excitement being a squid entangling itself on Matt's tail only to find the dragon to be phenomenally flexible and deadly. Somewhere in the depths, there was now a dead squid with a massive bite mark in its head. And for miles afterwards, Matt constantly licked his lips with a black, forked tongue.

"So you haven't been able to sleep," Natalie said as the sun began to lower towards the horizon. "How has that affected you?"

Matt twitched slightly, but didn't answer.

"Obviously, you're fatigued more easily," Natalie pressed after a minute. "How's your natural healing? I imagine that's slowed down."

Still silence, though he tensed some.

"Natalie, I don't think it's a good idea to be tempting our ride to send us to sleep with the fishes," Lance dryly suggested.

Natalie shook her head before firmly saying, "He wouldn't. I trust him."

That actually caused Matt to freeze mid-stroke and his eyes to go wide. " _You trust me?_ " he asked in a small voice. " _How can you trust me?_ "

"Well, you didn't really have a choice... back then... did you. Godcat said you're bound to defend altars to some war god. Bound creatures have very little to no free will when the contract cracks down. You wouldn't have killed us if we'd turned around, right?"

"No, but that doesn't change what I did," Matt venomously hissed aloud. He struck out strongly again, trying to get the speed to get airborne once more. "I killed all of you— _slaughtered_ you. I ripped apart any kind of bond we had. I gave you all years of nightmares, you don't even trust each other, and you still-!"

"How did you know we've been having nightmares?" Anna suddenly demanded.

"Or that we've been having a hard time seeing we can trust our friends?" Lance added suspiciously.

Matt didn't reply until after he'd managed to launch himself back into the air, displacing a huge amount of water. "I... followed you three for a few months, just after we split. I'd never done a revive before, and I needed to make sure you were all okay. And it was... for me, too. I kept zoning out into these waking nightmares where you all were dead, still, and I had to make sure it wasn't true. I had to! I couldn't stand the idea that... Not for the..."

Abruptly, he quit talking as though he'd said too much—nothing they tried could get him speaking again, either. But he'd given them plenty to think on, and so they did for hours on end, weighing his words, his actions, both past and present, his nature...

The sun dipped low in the sky, slipping past the line of the sea. In its place, the moon and stars rose, seeming extra bright and large out on the open sea. Matt was steadily gliding ever south, though he watched the sky as well. For him, it was the one non-painful constant in his life. The sky never changed, never betrayed him. He couldn't hurt the sky, and it couldn't hurt him, either. Sure, the stars shifted, the moon changed phases and eclipsed, clouds could form, and winds could howl, but overall it was the same sky he'd been born under, and the same sky that always watched him.

On his back, the other three were silently watching the sky as well. They'd never seen it so bright and clear, having usually been too close to towns, or in deep forests and caves. It made even Matt's massive dragon form seem small by comparison. And there was a sort of peaceful serenity in watching the lights flickering above them, and dancing in reflections on the waves below. Before they knew it, they were blinking awake to the sensation of Matt landing.

It was now in the eerie darkness before dawn, and they were surrounded by crumbled marble pillars and statues. Ahead of them, the three sacred jewels twinkled in the darkness, emitting a faint glow from within.

"We're here?" Natalie asked with a yawn as she pushed herself off of Matt's surprisingly comfy neck.

"We're here," Matt agreed quietly. He waited until the others slid down his side to land on the ground before shifting back and standing straight. "I'm here, Godcat, and I know you are, too. Show yourself."

A flash of light heralded the appearance of the goddess between the three jewels. Her eyes shone brightly in the darkness and her fur glimmered as though with starlight.

"You arrived quicker than I expected, given where you were," Godcat noted mildly. "Did you fly through the night?"

"I can't sleep, so why not?" Matt snorted. He jerked his head at the three standing silently behind him and added lowly, "Why did you send them after me?"

Godcat's ear twitched and she sat down. "They asked me to, and as I am indebted to them, it was only right to grant them my aid." Her eyes were scanning the dragon before her and she shook her head in wonder. "Remarkable. You truly have not changed in the last few thousand years, past growing your hair out. Had you looked this kempt the last time we spoke, perhaps I would have recognized you and held back in attacking."

"What do you want from me?" Matt pressed, refusing to be drawn into small talk. The sooner he got his answers, the sooner he could run from his former team.

"So impatient," Godcat purred. "Then again, I suppose dragons are not known for their patience. I wish to offer you a different pact."

Matt froze, his eyes going wide. Behind him, the other three sucked in sharp breaths.

"I can't," Matt finally refused. "I'm bound to Helsath, you know that."

Godcat's purring grew louder. "Helsath is greatly weakened with the destruction of his foremost shrine. And this is my plane of existence. I already far out power and outrank him. It would be a simple matter to break your pact and reforge a new one."

Matt felt dizzy at the news. He could finally be free of Helsath? Godcat had no great sites to defend, anymore; there would be no cause for him to attack those close to him. Then he felt a small tickle of fear. What would he do with himself with no need to guard anything, no need to track down potentially dangerous fighters to watch? His entire existence—his entire _family's_ existence—had been with the understanding that he had one true task.

"Why can't he just be free of any and all pacts?" Natalie demanded.

Godcat's gaze flicked to the mage before turning back to Matt, who looked deep in thought. "Because once a pact is set the only way truly out is by the complete and permanent death of one of the pact's bound parties. And since gods cannot die, that means Matt is trapped." Her tail flicked at the understanding hum from Natalie, and she added, "Furthermore, even if I could free him, I likely would not. A guardian of his caliber, experience, and knowledge is irreplaceable."

Matt merely shrugged as his team made sounds of angry disgust. "I appreciate the honesty, at least. And it works out. I wouldn't know what to do with myself at this point, anyway." He raised a hand to halt Lance's spluttered sound of protest. "I don't expect you guys to understand. I've been alive long enough to have a hand in large parts of your history. Imagine living thousands of years, from birth to the present, with no real control over your life. I'm not sure I even know how to set a goal for myself. The closest example I can give is a bred and trained attack dog. It won't ever settle completely down and be a loving ball of fur after years of being taught that anything unusual is a threat."

"Have you ever _tried?_ " Lance demanded heatedly.

The dead look Matt cast him was enough to cause him to flinch.

"Of course I did. Many times. You know first hand how those attempts always turned out," Matt stated flatly. He turned his eyes back to Godcat, who waited as patiently as a god could. "Helsath will seek revenge, you know that—if not against you, then against me. I won't form a new bond if it means threatening them. If you can't make some semblance of a guarantee for their safety, then there is no deal to make, and I will be bound to attack you."

"You know that such protection comes with a steep price," Godcat warned with a flick of her tail. "Perhaps you are willing to make that choice, but are they?"

Matt shrugged, the simple motion filled with exhaustion. "It's their choice to make, not mine, so why are you asking me?"

"I'm not going to bind myself all willy-nilly to a goddess on behalf of the man—or dragon—that killed me," Lance refused, not needing an explanation to know what Matt and Godcat were talking about.

With his back turned to them, they didn't see the way Matt's eyes shut to try and hide the soul-biting sorrow that refusal caused. Godcat, however, saw the break that happened, and despite all of her aloofness and half-disdain, half-grudging respect for the team, her own soul ached. It was obvious to her that at one point Lance would not have hesitated to give his life for Matt—and she was sure Matt was all too aware of that as well. Perhaps Lance couldn't understand the deadly knife that simple words could be, but any creature forced to bear cruel and damning words for eternity could. Even silence was damning—and silence was all that Natalie and Anna had to offer.

Matt had had enough. His arms fell slack at his sides and he opened his eyes to stare at Godcat in the upmost of pleading ways. "I can't do this anymore, Godcat. I choose the second freedom. Please, just give me that. You're certainly strong enough."

It took a moment before those words sank in, and the three humans behind Matt stiffened. But he wasn't finished speaking, in the wake of Godcat's own silence.

"I've destroyed everything I've ever had. You've watched, and you know this. I scorned the last of my kind, and they died out as a result. I railed against my duties, and my family paid the price. I pushed away past friends and foes alike, leaving them no reason to trust me when it mattered most, and was forced to kill them. I stupidly thought I could forge bonds strong enough to last, and yet barely a decade later and I broke those, too. I lashed out against my god and destroyed my purpose. And no matter what I try now, it won't matter. If you're any mother at all, you'll let it end."

Natalie's hand had crept up to cover her mouth as tears trailed down her cheeks. If they had thought Matt was tired and run down before, it was nothing compared to the utter lifelessness he displayed now. She just couldn't understand how it had all crashed down so suddenly and fast.

Anna, for all her fear and lingering anger at Matt, ached for him now. Never had she heard any being so utterly ready to die. The fighter in her, the part that urged to always resist, simply couldn't comprehend ever being pushed so low to want her own self-destruction. But then, what she could and couldn't understand hardly mattered where Matt was concerned.

Lance felt the awful sensation of simply _knowing_ he was responsible for this horrible and dark turn. Matt had never given up before. Matt had pushed him to better himself, offered him the path forwards into a better future, been patient and understanding. He'd been able to rebuild because someone had reached out to him and promised there was something more waiting. And he'd repaid that miraculous chance back by repeatedly tearing down the very person who'd saved him, all for his own folly. And even then, Matt had offered yet another chance to let him try again, and at great expense to himself.

Godcat's head dipped at long last. "...If that is what you truly wish, then fly with all-gods' speed into the next world. I, Godcat, creator of life, mother to all, grant you this final gift. May you find those you've lost on the next plane, Matt, Sunclaw, Guardian of Helsath, bringer of fire, Goldwyrm, shepherd of warriors, protector of heavens, last of the dragons, last of the guardians. May your ashes ride the wind, and the skies long trumpet your triumphs."

Matt listened to the sacramental rights given to all dragons—the words he, himself had spoken many times over bodies and pyres—and tilted his head back to look at the stars. He felt nothing. There was no relief at finally resting, there was no fear at ending, there was no joy at being free. The only thing he thought he might miss were the comforting lights in the skies that had always watched him. Yet as Godcat's voice continued to recite the ceremonial words of his titles, triumphs, and blessings, a soft breeze wove past, and he caught the scent of his team. And for a brief moment, he realized he would miss them, too, regardless of what they thought of him. He wondered if they would mourn him.

" _Probably not,_ " he thought with a bittersweet smile as he shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to carry a bit of them with him when he finally died. "And that's for the best."

"Farewell, Matt, and I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive us foolish gods for your suffering," Godcat murmured at last as a brilliant glow began to surround her form.

"We won't let you."

Matt's eyes opened at Natalie's defiant words. To his baffled surprise, Natalie, Anna, and Lance each stood between him and Godcat, their arms outstretched as though to shield him from her words and judgement. And now that they were closer, he could smell tears from each of them. Godcat had paused in her gathering of her power and simply cocked her head at them, as though she simply couldn't understand their defiance. And perhaps, Matt thought, perhaps as a god, she couldn't. The gods could never understand the near-suicidal actions that drove humanity's greatest efforts and achievements.

He couldn't help a faint smile at the sight of it once more, but before he could speak and assure them that this was fine and what he wanted, Lance spoke.

"I'll accept the bond," the gunner said firmly. "I'll accept it, if Matt accepts it."

"So will I," Natalie agreed just as firmly.

"And I," Anna echoed.

Matt's eyes widened, as did Godcat's, and he blurted out, "What? Why the hell would you do that?" Almost unconsciously, he reached out to grasp Lance's shoulder to tug the man around to face him. "You hate taking orders, you hate being trapped! More than all of that, you hate _me!_ So why...?!"

"Because you deserve it. You deserve the chance to really live," Lance interrupted quietly. "Every time I ever faltered, you were that there to pick me up again. You could have killed me dozens of times and been justified, but all you ever did was grin and let me try again. Even when I finally pushed past the uncrossable line and you were forced to finally stop me, you brought me back to try again. What kind of friend would I be- no, what kind of _person_ would I be, if I didn't do the same in return? It's taken me years with my head twisted up my own ass to realize it, but you were never in the wrong. I was. We were."

Matt shook his head wordlessly, unable to do more than stare at Lance with something just short of despair in his eyes. But then Anna started speaking.

"I always wondered why you were so quick to help me retrieve the jewels, even when Lance and Natalie didn't seem to care. You knew, even back then, what they were. You worked hard to help me, and I never understood why. Now, maybe, I think I'm starting to get it. You trusted me to do what was best, and I'm only sorry I betrayed that trust so badly."

Matt let go of Lance's shoulder to take a shaky step back, shaking his head in denial.

"You picked me up and stuck by me when everyone else had labeled me a dangerous menace," Natalie whispered. "I had no control over my magic, I was prone to emotional bursts of power, and I was so afraid. Then you showed up out of nowhere, and you helped me find my control. You never mocked me, you never turned your back on me, and you always made sure I stayed in the best of health as I learned. And then, suddenly, I wasn't a dangerous menace anymore. I had become a respected battle mage and a coveted healer. I was afraid you were going to grow bored of guarding me, that I was going to lose my best friend. But instead of walking off, you found a new goal for us to tackle together. I... I eventually took the fact that you'd always been there to mean you would always be there. I took you for granted and I pushed you to kill yourself just as much as you'd killed us. Everything that happened... We all had a part in it, we all made our choices, but had no choice, and you were forced to respond."

Matt's eyes were fixed on Natalie's, and he saw the beautiful face of the mage overlaid by dozens of others just like her speaking her words, though they had never had the chance to say anything remotely similar. How many friends, loved ones, allies, and comrades haunted him now? Was seeing their faces just a hallucination caused by severe lack of sleep? Or, maybe, they were trying to tell him something important through Natalie.

Godcat had hung back as the team talked Matt down. Inwardly, she was hopeful for reasons both selfish and not. There would never be another like Matt to follow her wishes and defend her fonts, and she sensed his friends would be the tipping point to swearing himself to her—and she would gain their services as well. But for once, personal gain was the secondary attraction. Matt had suffered unbelievably so, and it looked to finally be turning around. He was far from fine, but for the the first time ever, he had comrades, friends, loved ones... there were people who knew everything he'd ever hidden. They'd struggled to accept it, of course, but in the end, they understood. He would no longer be alone.

But would it be enough to sway a creature so utterly convinced he was on his own, as he'd been for thousands of years, and as he believed he should be?

"You guys don't know what you're agreeing to," Matt protested desperately. "You can't move on. You can't die of age, you can't kill yourself to escape. You'll be told to do things that disgust you to your very core, and you will have to do them. The gods don't care about you."

"I take offense to that."

Matt scowled over at Godcat at her dry words. "Don't try to pretend otherwise. You slaughtered your own followers just as readily as you slaughtered your enemies—followers who had done nothing to betray you. I don't care what you are a goddess of, you will never understand the mortals you created."

 **OOOOOO**

"Well, we technically have Godcat's permission," Lance reasoned as he cracked the weathered leather journal open. "Besides, Matt probably won't get that mad at us. He's still feeling really guilty."

"That isn't a very comforting reason for snooping through his personal things," Natalie snorted disapprovingly.

As per usual, Lance ignored her morality and peered down at the first page. Almost immediately, his brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at the strange dialect in the book. In hindsight, it made perfect sense that Matt knew how to write, and likely speak, many different languages. If he and Godcat were to be believed, the dragon had lived for many, many, many generations, and language was fairly fluid. With an aggravated sigh, he flipped through the musty, yellowed, and fragile pages, trying to see if maybe the dialect would become something he was more familiar with. Sadly for him, though the language did indeed seem to change, it wasn't until the last several entries that it was anything remotely like he was used to.

"Geez, this is an archaic form of our written language," he muttered to himself. "Let's see... He's dated this entry... about seven hundred years ago? I think?"

Anna leaned over to peer at the letters and nodded her confirmation, "Yup, seven hundred and sixty three, to be exact. Huh, this is the same kind of writing our older records in Greenwood are written in."

Lance immediately passed the journal to the ranger in a silent plea for her to read it and spare him the headache. Anna rolled her eyes in exasperation, but accepted the book and moved a little closer to the lantern. She scanned a few entries before finding one that seemed interesting to begin reading the aloud.

"' _The kitten armies have fallen back to the inner walls. Godcat herself rose with the sun that morn and obliterated half of the rebels troops. Sanya was among those lost, the poor girl. I told her not to go, but like everyone else, she was certain she would be fine. And why would they not be? They razed every village and temple they crossed with no resistance, why would the High Fane be any different? The fools failed to realize their creator's altar stands in the catacombs beneath the temple. Of course she rose to defend it. Helsath is laughing, I can tell. He looks forwards to the bloody days to come._ '"

"So he didn't actually fight Godcat before?" Natalie mused aloud when Anna paused to find the next legible line past some water damage. "That's odd, though I suppose the gods would tend to not want to fight each other."

"No, he definitely joined the war, but late in the altercations," Anna corrected in a hum. She squinted, trying to make out the messy scrawl of the next part "' _The mortals' arrogance offended Helsath, and I was sent out. They believed themselves to be gods of battle, or at least aspects of his power, a vain boast that could never stand before his pride. Still, he could have simply turned the tide against them. I do not know if I will ever forget their screams as the scores burned. It was pointless in the end, anyway. With the stolen powers of Hyndal, Dralph, and Fathgen, the rebels sealed their creator away. May the gods have mercy on their souls during judgement, though I cannot imagine Carnt to care at all. He wished me well when I spun a tale of fighting abroad, never knowing I was the calamity the felled his men. I hope he never finds me at Helsath's shrine, though I fear he will should he continue his quest to eliminate the gods._ '"

"What a flowery poet," Lance snorted. "I never knew he was so eloquent."

"Written language back then was considered a sacred bond between the writer and the heavens that would span centuries," Anna explained calmly. "I imagine he picked up the habit of writing formally from whoever taught him, and as language changed, his changed, too. This next part is several years later, and a lot less stuffy."

Natalie was staring out at the dark tunnel that led to the cave entrance. "I wonder why he kept a journal at all. This is pretty horrible stuff to write down and remember. I certainly wouldn't want to have a written record that I'd slaughtered hundreds of men by fire."

"I'm sure he kept it to punish himself," Anna murmured somberly. "He's always blamed himself for the things that really mattered. It doesn't get better, either. This next passage is a memoir of this Carnt guy. He, Sanya, and Matt must've been close friends at one point, because he's written dozens of little... blurbs... about them, just before he adds that Carnt's dying curse was already being fulfilled. Matt must've had to fight and slay him, too."

"I wonder if he's written anything about us?" Natalie wondered aloud.

Anna flipped the pages before pausing on one and smiling, "He did. There's one in here about when he first met you. Apparently, your starting a wildfire with a new fire spell and needing rescuing was the highlight of his month. He struggled to not laugh as you... blamed clouds? Why the heck would you blame clouds?"

Natalie flushed and covered her face with her hands, "I was drunk, okay? Clouds are in the sky, and they move with the wind, and the wind is what sent my spell out of control, and, well, you can guess the rest." Still, she was smiling as she lowered her hands again. "He was a complete sweetheart as he escorted me back to town. I thought I'd never see him again, of course, but he was back the next day to ask if I'd come help him kill some golems."

Anna's own smile widened as she silently read a few lines that definitely stated Matt's attraction to the mage. She decided that secret could still be Matt's to share and turned the page to see a few passages about their various adventures and challenging Lance, occasionally reading funny lines aloud. His memory of even seemingly insignificant details and events was astonishing, and carefully recorded with a loving hand. The journal ended abruptly just after his recollection of their party in Greenwood post-Godcat's defeat.

"Wow," Anna murmured as she closed the book and stared down at the cracked leather of its binding. "It's too bad we can't read most of this. Probably never will, either."

"Yeah, I bet he wrote about his first lover. It's be funny to see what kind of poetry he'd use for that," Lance snorted with a perverse smile.

" _Lance!_ For Godcat's sake, practice a little decency," Anna snapped with an exasperated sigh.

Lance, predictably, ignored her as he leaned back on his hands in mock thought. "Unless... Do you think he's still a virgin? I have no idea how a dragon's libido works, but having none at all seems pretty unlikely. Though, he's certainly never really paid attention to any hot chicks we've been around."

Anna threw her hands in the air in a gesture of disgust. "Is sex all you ever think about outside of battle? And never mind how gross it is that you're thinking of what your friend likes to bone or not."

"Oo, I had no idea you knew how to use that word."

Unseen by them in the midst of their argument, Natalie's expression had fallen. It was true that Matt had never paid any attention to her or anyone else. Not that she'd ever known, of course, but perhaps she'd been a fool to fall in love with a dragon. What if dragons could only fall in love with and want other dragons? It was a reasonable explanation, but it spelled disaster for her feelings for him.

The mage quietly excused herself from the bickering pair and slipped out of the small library and back towards Matt's bedroom. Her distant eyes watched her feet as she skirted large piles of gold, artifacts, and jewels until the stone changed to a worn crimson rug. She looked up to see Matt still asleep on the canopied bed, snuggled into the silk pillows with the sheets tangled about his shoulders and his hair across his face. He looked so perfect and innocent as he slept there, and she found herself drawn to sit on the edge of the mattress near his head.

The dragon didn't stir as her slight weight caused the mattress to dip, still held under by years of exhaustion and simple bliss at being able to sleep at long last. He didn't twitch as a soft, gentle hand carefully brushed his golden hair off his cheek to tuck behind his ear, nor when that hand returned to stroke his cheek with an equally gentle thumb.

A glint of water dripped to the silk sheets, leaving a darker spot, and was followed by more. Natalie's expression never changed and her touch was still butterfly light, but tears ran down her cheeks to fall from her chin. He was so sweet, and strong, and kind, and the only one who had ever truly understood her, and she had secretly loved him for so long. How cruel was it that all this time he hadn't been as innocent and oblivious as he'd always pretended? There was no way he could have missed her affection for him, but he'd never said a word or even hinted at knowing. She could only assume he didn't love her in return and had tried to spare her feelings by pretending to not notice them.

But perhaps that was for the best, for had she ever truly understood him? She had failed to notice he wasn't even human. She'd looked past the warnings and signs: the unnatural strength, the enormous vitality and experience far beyond any young man, the relative anonymity for someone so talented. Even once she'd learned the truth about his species, she had failed to understand him. Was her love so shallow that being given the truth at long last was too much to keep the feelings alive? Or maybe she was just too selfish and judgmental to properly love someone so pure.

Natalie's hand lifted away from Matt's skin, and she immediately missed his warmth. Fresh tears burned behind her eyes, but more alarming was the way she could feel her mana prickle beneath her skin. It had been many years since she'd last felt the sensation, but she knew immediately what it was. With a sharp inhale of fear, she stood up and fled the room.

Lance and Anna were still affectionately bickering when she ran past the library, and their voices echoed behind her down the stone caves as she ran outside. Just as soon as she cleared the cave entrance, she felt a pulse of magic leave her unbidden. Lightning crackled from her body in a deadly aura, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to remember every lesson Matt had offered or that she'd taught herself about control.

" _Focus on your breathing,_ " Matt's voice echoed in her mind. " _You need a medium for your thoughts, and timing your breaths can help a long way with that. Don't think about what you might be frying, just focus on the inhale... and the exhale_."

But, for once, thinking of his voice made everything worse. Natalie's breathing hitched as even more tears coursed down her face. The lighting grew even more wild with her soaring emotions, and as the lightning grew, so did her panic, fueling a dangerous and deadly cycle.

Lance and Anna had come running at the sudden outflow of energy from Natalie, and they were now gaping at her as she crackled with power strong enough to scorch the stone around her. Neither one had ever seen her lose control of her magic before, and their wide eyes met each other as they wondered what to do. Approaching her meant almost certain death, but she clearly needed help regaining control.

As they hesitated, Natalie slid to her hands and knees, wheezing on panicked breaths. The world seemed to spin around her and the stone beneath her cracked and cratered as her mana continued to swell out of control.

Anna had just taken an instinctive step forwards when a flash of gold and black launched past her.

Matt threw himself headlong into the lighting without hesitation, conjuring up a powerful barrier around his skin to protect himself. His heart raced with fear as he skidded to a halt in front of Natalie and gripped her by the shoulders to haul her upright. Her wild eyes met his, glowing faintly with a pale yellow light, and despite his great talent with magic and natural defenses, he could feel tiny slices of lightning cut his palms where their skin met. Her entire form trembled with raw, untamed energy wanting to escape faster than she could manage at the moment. It would kill her before much longer.

Despite that terror, Matt forced himself to speak calmly and clearly. "Listen to me, you're fine, Natz," he soothed. "Come on, follow my lead, you're gonna be okay, I promise."

The dragon had slid his right hand to intertwine with her left hand and held the other hand out and away from the cliff face, aiming at the air. In the next second, he opened his mana up as a pathway for hers and felt every muscle in his body tense as he let the wild energy shoot through his mana paths and out his other hand into the sky. Like a dam's flood gates being opened, the built up mana surged away from Natalie and through Matt. The smell of burning air coupled with wild flashing and loud hissing booms filled the next several tense seconds, and clouds rapidly formed from the violent displacement of air and mana. But the display couldn't last with such intensity now that the mana had a proper focused path to follow.

Matt finally released Natalie's hand to press her ear to his chest and focused on breathing evenly. His left hand was steaming after the lightning finally faded, and his fingertips were completely numb. Still, he brought that hand down to stroke through Natalie's hair and down her back as she trembled against his chest. She had taken his unspoken command to focus on his breathing and heart rate, and was steadily calming herself down.

"There, see? That was scary, but you're fine, now. You're perfectly fine," he murmured soothingly as she began to cry.

No more words were spoken until Natalie had wound herself down. She was still badly shaking from emotions and mana exhaustion, but she soon sat silently half-curled in Matt's lap.

"What brought that on?" Matt asked in a low, concerned tone. "You haven't lost control since... geez... not since a few months after we met up."

Natalie stiffened and pulled away, and was thankful that Matt let her go easily, though she missed the upset that briefly glinted in his eyes before he sealed it away.

"Just... just the stress of the last few weeks finally got the better of me, I guess?" she shakily said. She swallowed and refused to meet his disbelieving eyes as she meekly added, "Thanks for saving me. Again."

" _Even if I don't deserve it,_ " she silently added to herself.

Matt silently and critically studied Natalie's posture for several long moments. "You're lying to me," he finally stated in a half accusing tone.

Natalie flinched and seized the distraction of Lance and Anna finally approaching to avoid responding to his accusation. "Sorry about that, guys," she mumbled.

"Are you okay? That was..." Anna trailed off, unsure of how to describe what had happened.

Lance was glancing between Natalie and Matt. He hadn't heard their brief conversation, but he'd known both of them for long enough to know something was up between them. Questions could wait, however, as he took in the blood dripping from Matt's hand.

"Good work, Matt," he finally said. "Do you need any help with your hand?"

Natalie tensed again and whipped around to take in what she'd done to Matt. Multiple slices on his right palm sluggishly oozed blood, and angry red lines crisscrossed his left palm from the lightning. Plus, he still had a shadow of tiredness in his eyes that said he would have been sleeping still if she hadn't had a meltdown.

Matt didn't seem concerned as he lifted his hands to inspect them. "Nah, I heal fast. These'll be gone in a few minutes. Still..."

A brief glow surrounded his hands as he channeled a little of his mana to seal the wounds, leaving behind smooth skin. With that done, he turned his eyes back on Natalie, who immediately looked away again.

"So what brought on the breakdown?" Matt asked again. He waited a few moments before pressing, "Natalie, this is serious. You have far too much mana to be losing control of it. You could have died just now."

Natalie stubbornly refused to answer, leaving Matt to turn to Lance and Anna.

"What were you guys doing just before this?"

Anna and Lance exchanged uncertain glances.

"We were sitting in your library arguing about your, ah... sex life," Lance finally admitted sheepishly and gesturing between himself and Anna. "Natalie had wandered off, but she seemed fine before she left."

Matt's eyebrows shot up at that and a light blush settled on his cheeks. "You were arguing about my _what?_ "

Anna finally spilled. "We, um, we wanted to learn more about you, so we went to your library to see if you had any books from way back when, to try and give us an insight on how life was. Instead, we found, er..."

Matt stilled and his expression closed off. "You snooped through my journal, right?"

"Well if you would just talk to us, we wouldn't have to snoop," Lance shot back heatedly.

"Whatever. You can't have been able to read most of it, anyway, and certainly nothing in there that you can read would have been talking about past lovers," Matt finally said dismissively with a wave of his hand. "And we're getting off track. Natalie, just tell me what's wrong? Please? I don't want anything bad to happen to you, but I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

Even though she knew it would hurt him, Natalie couldn't stop herself from lashing out. "Why should I talk to you when you never once really talked to me?" she hissed.

Matt flinched back with wide eyes, and both Lance and Anna's jaws dropped open. But Natalie wasn't done talking.

"Did I ever mean _anything_ to you? Was all I ever was just a useful source of healing? Apparently, since you just strung me along like everyone else you've ever known! Against all my better thoughts, I trusted you, but you couldn't ever be bothered to do the same in return, could you? No, you couldn't and wouldn't, and because you couldn't and wouldn't trust me, you killed me instead! I had never, ever wanted to do anything bad to you, and you still... How can I possibly want to talk to _you?_ "

"Natalie," Lance said warningly with his eyes fixed on the top of Matt's head as it ducked.

She ignored him as she swept on. "You couldn't pull your head out of the past long enough to really _think_ , could you?! Then again, you've never thought at all, so why should I look back and have expected anything different! All you ever were was a chained and beaten hound incapable of opening up to anyone for any reason, instead lashing out to hurt those who reached out to you. I should just figure you're never going to really care!"

" _Natalie!_ " Anna barked from where she'd moved to kneel and give Matt a tight hug. "Quit being a spiteful _bitch_ and look at what you're doing to him!"

Matt had curled into himself to cry, desperately trying to block out the words Natalie was hurling at him. To him, he had tried once again to help and change, only to have it backfire once again. If even Natalie, the most caring woman he'd ever known, had decided he was a worthless waste of flesh...

The dragon seemed to melt in on himself, shifting to the form of a golden dragon the size of a large squirrel. Anna tipped forwards at the abrupt loss of a solid body, and caught herself on her hands as she gaped at the tiny, glinting form of Matt as he darted away with surprising speed for a body so small. Lance snatched for him as he tried to fly past and back into his den, and managed to just barely snag the serpentine tail. Matt let out a protesting squeak as he struggled uselessly against Lance's grip, flapping wildly and writhing.

"Nope, I remember what happened the last time we let you run off," Lance refused firmly. "You're staying here, bucko."

The gunner cast a cold, disgusted glance over his shoulder at where Natalie was staring at Matt, before turning away with a snort to head back into the cave. Matt had given up trying to escape and dangled limply from Lance's hand, and didn't try to flee when he was draped over the gunner's shoulder. Anna threw her own sour look at Natalie as she followed the pair inside, leaving the mage to sit alone on the stone of the cliff, even as the storm clouds finally opened up to let rain fall down.

Inside the den, Lance had set Matt down on a plush pillow, and sorrowfully took in the limp and defeated form of the dragon. "We're still here for you, Matt," he promised. "Trust has to start somewhere, and we still trust you. It's going to take some time for you to open up, I know, but you've finally got some people who know the truth and still want to be your friends. So please don't run away; give us a chance to know you, alright?"

Matt had lifted his tiny scaled head to look up at Lance, and slowly nodded it before curling into a tight ball to tuck his head under a wing.

"Yeah, get some more rest," Anna murmured fondly. "Maybe next time we speak, you won't look like death warmed over."

There was no acknowledgement from the dragon, though they didn't know if that was because he was refusing to reply or if it was because he'd already fallen back asleep. Regardless, they both retreated from his room to head back to the library to talk.

Lance slumped to sit on a worn chair and rubbed his palms over his eyes. "Gods, between Matt running off, and Natalie's hormones... Speaking of, can you go and make sure she doesn't run off next?"

"Sure. Shortsighted brat or not, Matt'll be crushed if Natz runs away," Anna agreed dourly as she turned to go.

The ranger trekked back down the stone halls to the cavern entrance to see that it was pouring rain, still. To her relief, Natalie was still seated where she'd been left, soaked to the bone with her hair plastered to her head and back. She didn't shiver, nor did she acknowledge Anna stepping out into the rain to stand beside her. Her blue eyes were half-hidden behind her dripping bangs and were distantly fixed on the sheets of falling water.

"You should come inside," Anna finally stated after several minutes. When that elicited no response, she tried, "Come on, Natalie. Matt wouldn't want you to get sick."

"I'll be in later."

The words were so soft Anna nearly missed them in the sound of the rain. She arched a brow, already thinking of all the ways 'later' could be interpreted. "How about now. You can sulk out of the rain just as effectively as you can in the rain."

Natalie shook her head and tilted her face towards the sky with her eyes closed to let the rain wash her hair back. "I need the rain to stay calm. I... I could really hurt one of you right now. The sound is... It's enough to keep me distracted."

An icy wind chilled Anna's legs both times Natalie's voice broke, as though to prove her point. Still, she refused to leave Natalie behind, though more out of irritation than concern.

"You already hurt Matt."

Several droplets flash froze into hail and clattered to the stone before Natalie desperately redirected the mana into an exhale of frost.

"Go away, Anna, you're not helping," Natalie said in a brittle voice. "If what you're worried about is me running off, or jumping, or whatever, I'm not going to. I can't suicide under the bond, and I know better than to think I can avoid all three of you for forever. Now leave me alone."

Anna winced at the underlying defeat in Natalie's voice as well as the way the air seemed to drop in temperature again. "Alright. Just... It isn't all over for you guys, yet, so keep that in mind."

Natalie said nothing, and Anna retreated back into the cave. The water dripping from her clothes echoed even over the sound of the rain outside, but Anna hardly noticed as she walked back to Lance, lost in thought.

"You look like a drowned Tanuki."

Anna started at the teasing remark and looked up to see Lance smirking at her from over a large tome. The gunner had propped his feet up on a stool and started a fire for extra warmth and light, and it reflected in his eyes, making them seem to glow.

"It's raining pretty hard, now, is all," Anna replied after a few moments as she settled down in front of the fire to try and dry off.

Her hands absentmindedly wrung some of the water from her hair before she pulled it all loose from the braid to separate the strands to allow for quicker drying. The air around her warmed some, and she looked up from the flames to see Lance watching her, obviously heating the air to help her warm up and dry off.

"So, is Natz in?"

"...No, she said she needed the rain to stay calm, and I'm willing to believe her. She's still not quite in complete control of her magic right now. Still, she promised not to run off or anything; said she knew we'd find her eventually, so it wasn't worth trying."

"Mm. Better than Matt considered, I guess," Lance sighed as he studied Anna's expression. "You seem more worried now. Did she say something else?"

"It wasn't so much what she said but how she said it, you know?" Anna quietly replied. "I'm worried about her... and Matt. She's smart and strong enough to find some way out of the bond—I'm sure of it. What I'm not sure of is how... moral... any way out will end up being, and how much she won't care."

Lance let out a deep sigh as he settled even further down in his seat. "All we can do is watch them."

"Yeah..."

It wasn't until late that evening that Matt woke again. He unfurled from his ball and sat up to look around his room with his shoulders hunched miserably. No one was nearby, but he could sense Lance and Anna a few rooms over, and Natalie a little further than that. The mage's mana was significantly lower than normal, but he'd expected that after her meltdown. Now he was just too afraid to actually go look at her and see how she was doing physically. Her words of fury and disgust still echoed in his head, and his tail flicked uncomfortably.

Maybe, he thought, maybe where he'd always gone wrong was in pretending to be something he wasn't. He wasn't human; he wasn't even mortal. He was a dragon, an ancient and powerful predator, a wild monster with just enough semblance of reason and morality to stand above other monsters. Yet he couldn't imagine trying to behave like- to be a dragon. His parents had never behaved like wild, vicious monsters, after all. But he had.

" _Maybe I should be something different_ ," Matt thought. " _Not a human, not a dragon. Just a... a helpful little monster? I'll still be around, still capable of fulfilling my duties as a guardian, just without having to try and fail to talk to people?_ "

With a glint of desperate hope in his eyes, Matt nodded to himself and leapt off his pillow and into the air to search out the others. He found Lance engrossed in reading an ancient text on monsters in the library. Lance glanced up to look at him as he landed on the stool by the gunner's feet.

"Hey, Matt, glad to see you're up," Lance greeted with a smile as he set the book aside. "How're you feeling?"

Matt shrugged and scratched under one horn with his hind foot. He pretended not to see the amused glint in Lance's eyes for the animalistic motion as his own eyes drifted to where his journal sat innocently on the low table. His tail flicked at the sight of it and he felt an almost irresistible urge to burn the offending book. Whatever had been in it had ruined his dreams of finally being happy.

Whatever. He had a new dream, now. He'd be the best little dragon ever, and someone would finally not mind having him around.

"Hungry?" Lance asked as he stood up. "I know Anna went out to catch a deer earlier and was planning on smoking it after she pulled the best bits for venison stew."

Matt sprang back into the air and circled until Lance stood before landing on the gunner's shoulder. Lance shot him a strange look, but said nothing as he strode for the door towards where Anna had claimed an empty cave as a larder and dining hall. The ranger had been busy, he could tell, because there were wood shavings all over the place, and she'd gather and assembled the pieces to make a rough table and some stools. At that moment, she was smoothing the seats of the stools with a planer and some sandpaper to remove any splinters while a steaming pot over a fire filled the air with the delicious smell of cooking food.

"Hey, Lance, Matt!" Anna greeted cheerfully after blowing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "I've almost got the furniture ready. Stew will be done in a bit."

"Smells good," Lance complimented. He nodded at the table and chairs and added, "And I'm impressed you got these together so fast. They're not bad... for a backwoods country girl."

Anna's beaming smile quickly dropped into a scowl and she flipped Lance off as she turned back to her work. "You can just eat a rock off the floor," she muttered.

Lance shot a grin at Matt as he sauntered over to sit on one of the stools. "Would you really make me eat a- Whoa!"

Anna whistled innocently as Lance picked himself up off the ground with a groan after she'd shoved the stool out from under him just as he'd sat down. Her eyes sparkled with laughter at his irritated growl, and she ducked the wood chip he flung at her. Still, despite his outward irritation, there was a contentment about him that said he wasn't really mad.

Matt had taken off as soon as he'd felt Lance begin to fall, and now sat on the edge of the table watching them. They seemed happy; it was a relief to know someone was. He itched to know if Natalie was okay, but he doubted she would want to see him in any form.

A bowl of stew being placed in front of him distracted Matt from his thoughts and he blinked up at Anna.

"C'mon, change back and have some food," Anna urged as she moved around the table to help Lance up—a steaming bowl waited for the gunner, despite her earlier threat.

Matt looked down at the stew. The broth was thick, the meat plentiful, there were few vegetables—all just as he liked it—and there was even a chunk of fresh bread sitting beside the bowl for dipping. He wanted the food so bad, but he couldn't eat it. He was just a monster, now, after all, and monsters didn't eat at tables with people.

Lance frowned as Matt swooped off of the table to sit on the floor. "Uh, short stuff? You're gonna need a few extra inches if you want to have dinner."

A squeak was all he got in reply, and Anna snorted in amusement. Lance, however, was beginning to look concerned.

"Matt, turn back," Lance said flatly. When the dragon simply stared at him, he swallowed and asked, "You can, still, can't you?"

Now Anna was nervous, too, when Matt simply sat there and stared. "C'mon, Matt, don't you want some stew?" she wheedled.

Matt took off and flew out of the room, leaving Anna and Lance staring after him.

"What the hell?" Lance murmured uneasily. "He's not... y'know... stuck like that, is he?"

Anna shook her head in confusion. "I doubt it, but then why not turn back? It's not like we've never seen him do it."

Neither person had any appetite left as a feeling of foreboding rose in each of them.

Natalie was still sitting outside in the fading rainstorm. Her body trembled with shivers as the sun set and the temperature dropped, but she refused to go inside until she'd expended all of her mana and could trust that she wouldn't hurt someone by accident.

" _You already hurt Matt._ "

Natalie's jaw clenched as Anna's words floated through her thoughts for the hundredth time since being said. She had hurt Matt. Had what been said been true? Yes, to a point. Had it been what she'd been feeling? Yes, to a point. Should she have said it? No, probably not. But she was only human, and had been hurting, and stressed from events and her mana going out of control. Still, she regretted having taken that stress and anger out on Matt, who had only just begun to trust them even a little again.

A gentle weight settled on her shoulder and she started before glancing to see a small, golden shape sitting on her. Matt, in a small dragon form, had come to sit with her, and curled his tail loosely around her neck. He was... really warm... she noted as he pressed up against the icy skin of her neck and cheek. Some of the remaining anxious pulses of mana began to settle back under her control. It helped even more when he lowered his head to rest against her collarbone and began to thrum gently, almost like a cat purring.

"I-I'm s-sorry ab-bout what I s-said," Natalie whispered with chattering teeth. "Y-you had just b-been trying to h-help, and I repaid y-you with h-horrible w-words."

Matt didn't say anything in reply, but he seemed to thrum a little more loudly, and his tail pressed a little tighter, like a hug. Natalie's eyes welled with fresh tears at his gentle, forgiving nature. She shut her eyes and simply listened to and felt the quiet rumbling, not noticing as her shivers began to die down. It was like the most soothing of lullabies, and it made her really tired.

Matt, however, did notice, and he became alarmed. His head popped up and he let out a loud squeak that went ignored. Barely a second later, and he was forced to spring away as Natalie toppled over to lie on her side in a puddle as the drizzling rain continued to mist down on her. Her skin was pale and freezing to the touch, her lips blue, and her breathing very slow.

Without a moment's pause, Matt shifted back into his human form to snatch her up, his heart racing with fear. It hadn't seemed cold enough for her to be vulnerable to hypothermia, but she had been wearing wet clothes, and though he didn't know it, she had been expelling ice magic.

The dragon darted past Lance just coming out of the kitchen, who let out a startled cry. He didn't stop until he was in his room where he promptly spat a lick of fire on the heatstone near his bed before laying Natalie down. It was a simple matter to pull her soaked and icy clothing off and wrap her in warm sheets. He missed Lance and Anna watching with wide eyes as he darted away briefly to get some towels to dry her hair. She was still too cold, and it was a race to get her back to a temperature that wouldn't kill her. But even with the dry sheets, the heated stone, and the vigorous rubbing and chafing of her skin, Natalie's heart continued to slow.

Matt promptly wormed his way under the sheets beside her, turned into a dragon not much smaller than her, and pressed full against her side. Natalie gave an unconscious shiver at the abrupt warmth that washed through her and let out a hoarse moan as she pressed a little closer. Matt curled his tail around her legs in response and rested his chin on her chest above the sheets.

"...She gonna be okay?" Anna finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

Lance chanced stepping closer and was relieved when Matt simply watched him with no aggression. He laid two fingers against Natalie's neck and found her heart rate to be more or less steady. He moved his hand up to peel her eyelids back and was relieved to see the pupils dilate. Finally, he laid a hand on her forehead and shut his eyes as he sensed out her mana, and found it to be stable, if ridiculously low.

"I think she'll be fine, if pretty weak for a few days," he finally decided. "Her mana is way down from earlier, and that's going to make it hard for her to regulate her body temperature, and she'll probably get a little sick. She's out of immediate danger from hypothermia, but you have to make sure the opposite doesn't happen, too. Your body temperature is higher than hers by quite a lot in that form, and we don't want her to suffer heat exhaustion, next. Give her another ten minutes, then get out from under the sheets."

Much of that was directed at Matt, who nodded ever so slightly. Lance stepped back again, cast one last eye across Natalie's sleeping face, then nodded and turned to head out, snagging Anna's wrist as he went. Ten minutes passed in complete silence, and then Matt squirmed out from under the sheets, taking care to replace them over Natalie to cover her nudity. Then he shifted back to his tiny dragon form and sat on her pillow with his eyes fixed dedicatedly on her face.

Hours passed that way, and he heard Anna and Lance call a good night, but he remained awake and vigilant. There could be no mistakes with Natalie's health. He'd messed up enough in her life, already. But despite his dedication, his eyes were tired, and he still longed to sleep, and her heart was beating a nice, steady rhythm, and the sheets on her looked so soft...

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Matt crept up onto Natalie's stomach and loosely curled there with his head resting on her chest, watching her face. It didn't take long before the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing alongside her heartbeat and comforting scent caused him to drift off. His last thought before he fell asleep was that he hoped she wouldn't be too mad about him stripping her.

Natalie woke the following morning feeling sore and groggy. Her eyes peeled open to blearily stare at the red canopy overhead. She blinked at the sight for a few moments before bringing one hand up to press against her forehead as she felt an immense headache already forming. The limb trembled with exhaustion, and she soon let it flop above her head as she rolled her face to the side. There was no one there.

For some reason, her brow furrowed in confusion, certain that someone was here without quite knowing why. Then she felt a slight shift on her stomach and braved lifting her head slightly to see Matt draped there and asleep. His small head was resting on one of her breasts like it were a pillow, and he had one wing stretched out comfortably in sleep. Natalie flushed as she let her head flop back down, but couldn't bring up the strength to move him off of her.

It didn't really matter, anyway. He didn't like her like that— _couldn't_ like her like that.

The dismal thought had her squeezing her eyes shut to try and keep the tears that formed from falling.

"How're you feeling?"

Anna's soft voice startled Natalie out of her thoughts and she looked to the side again to see the ranger standing just inside the room with a platter of food.

"Miserable," Natalie replied honestly. She let out a sad laugh and shut her eyes again. "Everything went wrong, and it's my fault. Now I know how Matt feels, huh?"

Anna's heart clenched as she padded over to the bed and sat down, setting the tray of food aside. Her eyes trailed over where Matt still slept, clearly not back at full strength and needing sleep. Still, despite the strange face, he looked content, and his mana certainly felt content.

"Not everything went wrong," Anna promised quietly. She nodded down at Matt. "He seems pretty happy right now. Plus you got him to shift back last night. Lance and I were worried that he was stuck in his dragon form for some reason."

"How can he be happy with me?" Natalie bitterly wondered aloud. "All I ever seem to do is hurt him, anymore."

Anna shook her head and reached over to smooth Natalie's bangs back. "We've all hurt each other, recently, and we're never going to stop if we can't break the cycle and say enough is enough. No more hurting ourselves, and no more hurting our loved ones, alright?"

Natalie didn't reply, but her eyes softened some, which was apparently good enough for Anna, who stood off the bed with a smile.

"Sit up and have some food," Anna urged as she walked out. "I'm sure if you move him slowly, Matt'll stay asleep."

As she'd guessed, the dragon did stay asleep and soon Natalie was seated upright with Matt in her lap. He'd simply curled into a loose ball in her lap with a soft, breathy sigh and continued slumbering. Natalie couldn't help but idly compare him to a cat as she nibbled on a piece of toast spread with some kind of tart berry jam. Her lips curled into a faint smile when she ran three fingers along the curve of his neck, and he rustled his wings before beginning to purr.

That was when she noticed that she wasn't wearing any clothes.

Natalie squeaked in embarrassment, and yanked a pillow around to cover her chest, knocking Matt off her lap, and nearly spilling her food onto the floor. The small dragon tumbled sideways with a startled squeak before sitting up to blink around him in sleepy confusion. His deep blue eyes landed on Natalie and seemed to light up at the sight of her sitting upright and awake. He flitted into the air with a happy chirp to land lightly on her head with his tail draped over her right shoulder. His claws lightly scratched along her scalp as he steady himself, but he was careful not to hurt her. Still, Natalie swatted him off.

"Why am I naked?" she demanded hotly with bright red cheeks.

Matt dropped like a stone back onto the mattress with his shoulders hunched, looking distinctly guilty, but also unapologetic.

" _You_ stripped me? Why?"

"Because you were close to freezing to death, that's why," Lance answered from the doorway. He had a bundle of cloth in his arms that tossed to land on the floor by Natalie's feet, revealing them to be a clean change of clothes. "Standard effective procedure when a human's internal body temperature drops to dangerously low degrees is to remove all wet clothing, and share body heat. Matt did that for you to save your life, so how about instead of snapping at him, you thank him, and apologize for the things you said last night?"

Natalie winced and glanced at Matt, only to see that he'd vanished from the bed. Just as the last time, however, Lance snagged the dragon as he tried to dart away, intending to haul him back over to Natalie to make him listen to the apology he needed to hear and deserved.

Unfortunately, Matt didn't simply go limp this time, instead, he twisted with a vicious hiss and sank tiny, needle-sharp fangs into the gunner's wrist. Lance yelped and reflexively released Matt, who twisted midair to right himself and zipped off without another sound.

"I'm on _your_ side here, prick," Lance called angrily as he delicately massaged the skin around the fang marks on his wrist.

Natalie had watched the exchange with wide eyes. A part of her wondered if maybe Matt thought she wasn't going to apologize sincerely. That same part of her also thought she didn't deserve to have him nearby. And just like that, she felt her mana, which had only just begun to return, begin to roil uneasily. She sucked in a sharp breath and avoided Lance's look of concern.

"I'm going to get dressed, so if you could just..."

She gestured vaguely with one hand at the exit, and Lance rolled his eyes and left, muttering about getting Anna to heal his wrist. As soon as he was gone, she was up and rapidly pulling up the clothes he'd brought her, only to pause as she saw them for the first time. The outfit consisted of a long, robe-like dress of deep crimson silk and a golden sash. Flames were embroidered along the sleeves in gold thread and looked to be hand sewn, and it was cut in a style she'd never seen before, but had to admit was lovely. It had to have cost a fortune, and she wondered if maybe it had come from somewhere in Matt's hoard. She couldn't imagine why he'd hung on to a woman's outfit, especially since it had no enchantment, but she shrugged the thought off and hesitantly folded it back up to lay on the bed. It was far too beautiful for someone like her to wear.

Instead, she found her red dress from the day before crumpled on the ground, hopelessly wrinkled and smelling of rain, but dry. She pulled that on, staring at the folded garb on the bed, lost in thought. Had it belonged to a past lover? A sibling? His mother, perhaps? Had he gotten it to give as a gift—not to her, of course, but perhaps to a friend long since dead? In fact, why did he even have such human luxuries filling his den? The gold and valuables, she could understand, but he'd shown in the past that he was comfortable anywhere, and didn't seem to much care for expensive furnishings. Yet he had a canopied bed spread with silk sheets and plush pillows, chairs and other furniture made of finely carven wood, mirrors and sofas, long and luxurious carpets... Why all of the creature comforts if he was never around, and didn't need, or seem to even want them?

"There had to have been someone living with him," Natalie realized aloud to herself as she stared around the space with new eyes. She took in the delicate curves of the bed frame, the tapestries depicting forested scenes and floral designs, and the mirrored vanity. Her eyes fell back on the robe on the bed. "A woman... A lover, maybe?"

Her heart gave a dull throb, and her mana prickled under her skin. and she turned away to head for the door. She couldn't stay there, ruining an image Matt had clearly sustained. Besides, she needed to go somewhere to meditate as she tried to sort out her mana on her own.

The mage snuck past where Lance and Anna were chatting over breakfast—a simple bandage was wrapped around the gunner's wrist, and the wound didn't seem to be bothering him, now. She didn't see Matt on her way for the cavern entrance, and he wasn't outside on the worn stone perch overlooking the island. With a sigh of relief, she picked her way down the treacherous and winding stone path down the cliff side. But now that she was looking, she saw a very faint, but even series of bumps all along the incline.

"Weather has worn them away, but these must've been stairs, once," Natalie murmured aloud as she knelt to run her hand over the stone. "Granite... it had to have been centuries since they were hewn for them to be this smoothed. Of course, he doesn't need stairs if he can just fly up and down the cliff."

It was yet another sign pointing to the theory that Matt had shared his den with someone else, someone who wasn't a dragon. She put that thought aside as firmly as she could, and rose to her feet to continue walking with new purpose. She could see a river not too far away, and by how swiftly it was flowing, she guessed that there had to be a waterfall nearby, or some sort of source.

Twenty minutes of walking, and fifteen minutes of hiking later, and she found herself standing on a bluff high above the island. To her right was the smooth curve of a massive waterfall, pouring out of an enormous lake that she assumed was being fed by some kind of underwater spring. A few trees ringed the edge of the water, which was a deep, clear blue. To her left was the steep trail she'd climbed to reach the plateau. Above her was the wide sky stretching all the way down to the ocean on the distant horizon.

Natalie—sweaty, physically tired from the hike, and mentally tired from trying to control her mana—simply sat herself down on a flat rock near the edge of the cliff beside the lip of the waterfall. She crossed her legs beneath her, rested her hands on her knees, and took a deep breath as she shut her eyes. The first step of any kind of mana control was control of the body, she knew, so she focused on easing her heavy breaths and slowing her heart down to normal.

With that done, she turned her efforts to the second step: controlling her mind. She took her lingering thoughts of misery, hurt, and fear, and mentally set them out before her, and she set her feelings of peace, happiness, and wonder beside them. Positive emotions were easier to acknowledge and accept, so she focused on them first.

She was peaceful because of the clean air, and natural sounds from the river, wind, and birds. She was happy, even after everything that had happened, because Matt was free of Helsath, and starting a new, admittedly bumpy, but happier chapter in his life. Her wonder came from everything she'd recently learned about her friend and the new opportunities open to her now that she was effectively immortal. She knew all of that, she accepted them, and she let them go.

But without those small, but wonderful things, she had to acknowledge the darker things. She was miserable. She'd hurt Matt, she'd hurt herself, and she couldn't seem to stop. She was hurt, because all the time she'd spent with Matt seemed inconsequential and ridiculous when she put it in the perspective of just ten years in a lifetime that spanned thousands. And she was afraid, so very afraid. Her mana was beyond her control, she had countless years ahead to endure and overcome, her greatest support in Matt had been badly shaken, possibly destroyed, and she didn't know what to do to help any of it.

The simplest solution, her mind darkly pointed out, would be to remove herself from the equation. But even if she had truly wanted to do that, she couldn't. Matt had explained how suiciding worked—she would simply reform at Godcat's altar where her soul was bound. Running to spare Matt, Lance, and Anna from having to deal with her wasn't a real option. It hadn't worked for Matt, and if a wyrm with millennia of experience and a wonderful remote getaway hadn't been able to escape his troubles, then she never could. And by the growing prickles under her skin, she was incapable of taming her mana on her own.

Perhaps Godcat could help her? Assuming, of course, that Godcat would even appear just to deal with her pathetic guardian's equally pathetic romantic troubles. But maybe the goddess would help with her mana?

The hopeful thought quickly died. She couldn't leave the island without Matt's help.

"...And you're not supposed to be brooding," Natalie muttered to herself as she opened her eyes to glare down at her lap. "You're supposed to be focusing on getting your mana under control."

Maybe what she needed was a change of strategy. Meditating wasn't going to work while she was so worked up. So instead of running and trying to shackle her out of control mana, she should use it. Surely she could simply open a pathway and keep a loose control on it? Natalie nodded to herself with more outward certainty than she really felt. She stood up, directed her eyes up at a passing cloud, raised a hand, and let loose.

The world seemed to go completely still and silent for an eternal second. Birds quit chirping, the breeze stopped, and animals all over the island turned to look at the sky. Then the hushed peace was shattered and a beam of pure energy erupted into the sky and ripped apart the cloud Natalie had been aiming for. An invisible shockwave blasted out from the plateau the mage stood on, bending trees back, and forcing a massive ripple on the ocean that spread out towards the horizon.

In the cave, Lance and Anna were knocked from their seats and slammed into a cavern wall where they groaned and sat up in baffled alarm. Matt, who had been hiding in a tiny hovel above his treasure room, dug his claws into the stone to stay still while his head whipped up in disbelief. None of them had ever felt such power before, but they knew that mana, and they knew Natalie was responsible.

In a flash, Matt squirmed out of his hiding place and dropped to the floor, all thoughts of staying a small dragon gone. Whatever had caused Natalie to unleash such power wasn't going to be stopped by a flying lizard. He shifted back into a human and began racing out of the cave, only to pause when he smelled blood—Anna's blood.

After a brief hesitation, he changed course, knowing he was closer to Anna than he was to Natalie, and that he would likely need her help. Luckily, the smell of blood wasn't from the ranger having been attacked, but from a deep cut in her shoulder when a knife had sunk into it when everything had been flung. Lance had already pulled the knife free and was holding a wadded cloth to the wound with one hand while breaking open one of his healing capsules with the other. Anna was blinking dazedly, and Matt assumed she was suffering a concussion.

"Go to Natalie," Lance ordered bluntly without looking up. "We'll catch up as soon as I've got Anna back on her feet."

"Right," Matt agreed as he spun around to race away.

His feet carried him past his treasure rooms, where the piles had all been thrown across the floor, and down the twisting halls to the outside where he promptly froze in complete amazement, his eyes going wide. Never in his entire long life had he ever seen anything like what was in the sky now. It was like a massive claw had ripped through the heavens to leave a jagged, pulsing wound that bled crimson light. The ground was stained an eerie red, and the sky seemed to be tinted faintly with purple. And there were thousands of black shapes streaming through the sky in all sizes, looking minuscule at their distance, which he knew meant they were in fact massive up close.

The dragon shook his head to break his stare and turned his mind to the immediate issue of finding Natalie. Her mana was stable, but low again, and he promptly shifted to his larger dragon form and leapt off the cliff to soar towards her. To his relief, he found her standing alone on the plateau near the center of his island, unharmed and staring up at the sky. Strangely, a crater had formed around where she stood, slowly filling with water from the spring, though she didn't seem to notice.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked as soon as he'd landed and shifted back.

Natalie slowly turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide and glazed, and her skin was alarmingly pale. Her lips cracked open to speak, but before she could, Matt tackled her down to the mud just in time to prevent a monster from taking her head off. She was cold to the touch, he noted worriedly, but he couldn't focus on her now—not with an enemy lurking about, wanting to kill them.

And what a strange enemy it was. The creature looked like some misshapen beast straight out of a nightmare, with slimy black skin, uneven and jagged fangs, and no eyes. Green frills ran all along its sides, and it had enormous dew claws jutting out from each webbed hand-like forearm. It lumbered to a clumsy halt that belied the speed with which it had attacked and slipped into the spring.

Matt shook off his shock, and drew his sword. The hilt of Destruction still felt odd in his grip, but comfortably balanced and humming with power. His pupils slitted as he began tracking the path of the monster under the water, and he lashed out when it emerged, once again heading for Natalie with all the single-mindedness of a beast. This time, it hit the ground in two twitching pieces that quickly fell still.

"Come on, we need to get somewhere more defensible," Matt told Natalie as he pulled her up from kneeling in the now knee-deep water. She silently followed his lead, still with that glazed look, and he shot a worried glance at her. "Natz?"

Her eyes blinked twice before finally focusing on him, though she quickly pulled them away again in shame. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Matt's frown deepened, though his pace quickened as he heard a strange warbling cry rise into the air from the forest. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I- I haven't been a good friend. You've been looking out for me and trying so hard to readjust, and I've been nothing but a spoiled brat back."

Something in her shaking voice was alarming Matt, and he tightened his grip on her hand in response as they plunged into a narrow cavern that he knew led to near his den. "No, you were justified with your anger. I never did open up to any of you because I was afraid. You all trusted me and I refused to do the same in return. But we're trying to do better, now, right? Sure, we're messing up and stumbling around, but we can figure this out."

"Y-You'll... think of me... won't you?" Natalie asked in a faltering voice.

Matt froze mid-step at that very odd, very _final_ sounding question.

"I always think of you," he swore as he turned to look back at her in the gloom. "Even when you're not right next to me, I'm thinking of you." He caught her as her knees suddenly gave out, and his heart skipped a beat. "What's wrong?!"

Natalie's breathing had gotten very uneven and raspy and she was shaking in his grasp as he lowered them both to sit on the cold stone. His fingers found her pulse and he was alarmed at the rapid, uneven beat her heart was pounding.

"Natalie?" he all but whimpered fearfully. "Come on, this isn't funny. You can sleep back at my den."

A cold hand rose to brush his cheek and he brought his own up to cup and hold it there.

"...I'm sorry..." she whispered.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be if you die here," Matt shot back with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He hauled her up and into his arms, cradling her against his chest with her head on his shoulder, and began sprinting through the remainder of the tunnel. "I'll heal you as soon as we're outside. You're gonna be fine, I promise. Don't do this to me again. Stay with me, Natz."

"I... love... you... Matt... Always... have..."

Tears began to trickle down Matt's cheeks and he let out a choked sob at her rasped confession as he skidded around a corner and saw the off-color light of the outside. He couldn't let her die again. He wanted her there, with him, loving and being loved. But she was dying in his arms from an unknown cause that he hadn't been around to prevent. And then she spoke again, and his cracking heart began to shatter.

"Stupid... I know. You... must... think... I'm ridiculous," Natalie said with a sigh of self-deprecating amusement.

"No, I think you're beautiful," Matt shot back harshly as he finally broke into the light. "The only ridiculous thing about you is that you think I'm going to let you die."

Natalie clung to his sleeve with a pathetic grip when he set her down on the ground, and he gently pulled her hand away to grip it in his own. Her pallor had gotten even worse and she could barely keep her eyelids open. By the way her dull eyes slid around, he assumed she couldn't see and was looking for him. He rested his free hand on her cheek to direct her gaze and leaned in closer, offering a wobbly smile when her expression softened some.

A soft golden glow surrounded her as he went to work with his healing magic, only for it to do nothing to help. His stomach dropped as he realized that what was wrong with her was far beyond his abilities to heal. He could sense her mana working to rapidly unwind itself, corroding the invisible pathways through her body and wreaking havoc in its wake. It dawned on him that she knew what was going on and knew she was doomed.

Well, he still refused to just let her give up.

The dragon let his fangs grow and bit his own tongue and tasted the irony flavor of his own blood flooding his mouth. Without a word, the hand he had on her cheek slid around to cradle the back of her head, and he lifted her up slightly to press his lips to hers. She flinched slightly—either at the sudden contact, or at the taste of blood in her mouth—but quickly relaxed into the kiss. Crimson blood leaked down her cheek as Matt tilted his head to deepen the kiss, letting his bleeding tongue snake into her mouth to rub against her own.

When he pulled away, he had blood on his lips, and he saw the same on her own. More importantly, however, he saw her swallow. She blinked tiredly at him, and was obviously confused and sad, but she still smiled with tears in her eyes.

" _Come on_ ," Matt thought desperately with his heart in his throat as he watched her eyes begin to slide shut.

And then it happened. He saw her wince slightly and work her jaw, and her eyes fluttered before opening again while glowing a soft blue. His hand clutched a little tighter still on hers as her back arched and she let out a sharp sound of pain. With a soft, reassuring hush, he ran his free hand over her forehead and through her bangs, and murmured that he was there and that she was going to be fine. At the same time, he was casting his senses out for any more strange creatures, and glancing up at the sky, which was still the odd purple color. It would be bad to disturb her while she was undergoing the change.

Ten minutes later, and Natalie slumped still with a ragged sigh and passed out. Matt lightly bit his lip as he checked her vitals before slumping with relief. Her body and mana had absorbed and mixed with his blood, and her mana had stabilized again. Now he just needed to get her someplace to rest while she recovered and her body adjusted to the changes his blood brought. He imagined that her senses would be sharper, and that she'd probably have fangs, and slitted pupils.

As for any of his other latent dragon abilities, features, and behaviors... He'd have to monitor her to be sure.

Matt let out a sigh and pulled Natalie up and around onto his back and continued for his den. Eerie cries echoed through the trees, but nothing attacked them, and he made good time back to the den. Several corpses littered the open space outside the cave, all just as strange and unknown as the monster he'd slain. By the arrows and holes, he assumed Lance and Anna had taken them out, and by the barrier stretched across the entrance, they'd defended the site against further attacks. All it took to get through was a brief flare of his mana, and the invisible shield dropped to allow them through.

"Anna's..." Matt murmured to himself as he erected a new and more powerful barrier before heading deeper inside. "I didn't think she could use barrier magic... It isn't as good as Lance's, so why...?"

The answer quickly became apparent when he stepped into the hall and saw Anna binding Lance's arm in a sling; the gunner himself was unconscious. A bloody bandage was wrapped around Anna's left arm, and was a dark enough of a red that Matt assumed the wound was still bleeding. Still, it didn't seem to be bothering the ranger that much.

"How's Natz?" Anna asked without looking up.

"...She needs rest, but she should be fine," Matt finally replied after a few seconds of silence. "I don't know what happened to her, but she was in really bad shape."

That made Anna glance up with concern and her eyes widened at the blood on Matt's face and how pale Natalie was in his arms. "I can heal her, if she needs it. And you."

 **OOOOOO**

Natalie caught Matt's arm.

"You can't fight him," she pleaded with wide, desperate eyes. "Even in your largest dragon form, he's twice as big as you! You'll be killed!"

Matt didn't pull his arm away, but neither did he turn back around. Outside of the ravine, the titanic shadow dragon screeched in triumphant as its Stygian flames scorched the land.

Finally, he half turned to cast a grim smile back at Natalie. "Give me some credit: I am a wyrm, you know."

"Have you ever fought something that size?" Lance demanded furiously, though he kept his head bent over his task of stitching the gash on Anna's torso closed. "If dragons get larger as they age, then he has to be at least twice as old as you. That's twice as much experience, twice as much size, twice as much power! You'll be lucky if your ashes even make it to the ground!"

"And nothing any of you can do will scratch him," Matt spat back. "I can't take you with me: you'll fall off my back when I dodge, and I can't be risking safe flying while I fight him. Your weapons won't even come close to breaking his scales and skin, and your magic will be nullified before it can touch him, anyway. We don't have any other options."

"We... could run..." Anna rasped before coughing out a wad of blood. She relaxed back again at Lance's quiet hush.

"To where?" Matt snarled. "The entire world is a hellscape. Where could we run? And even if there is somewhere safe enough to rebuild, dragons always seek out the strongest foes. One way or another, we'll fight. He'll hunt me down as a test, if nothing else."

Natalie violently flinched back, releasing Matt's arm as she was once again smacked across the face with the reminder that everything was her fault. Her hand came to clutch close to her chest, and she bit the inside of her lip, only to be reminded once again of her fangs. The iron-y taste of her blood filled her mouth, and she swallowed it before subconsciously swiping her tongue across the small wounds to seal them.

Her eyes drifted across her friends. Anna lay on the ground with a pale face, shallow breaths, and a pinched expression. Lance knelt over the ranger, tending to her wounds. His expression was blank, but tension showed in his shoulders. He had a smear of dried blood across his face from a shallow score on his forehead that had already clotted. Matt's clothes were singed and tattered, his blade coated in ash, and his free hand clenched in a fist, staring out at the other dragon once more.

" _If only I hadn't been such an idiot_ ," Natalie thought in despair. " _I'd have the ability to use my magic to heal Anna, I could close the rift. Hell, the rift would never have opened._ "

Matt smelled Natalie's tears, but for once didn't turn to comfort her. His comfort never seemed to help anyone, anyway, and he might not even be around to do it for much longer. He ignored Natalie's strangled sound of protest and Lance's soft hiss of warning, and stepped out into the open. In a flash of golden light, he assumed his largest form, easily towering over the ravine his friends were hiding in, but much smaller than his foe.

Still, he swallowed his fear and allowed the thrill of a battle that his blood craved to fill the fear's place. With a thundering roar of challenge, he launched himself into the air, prepared to fight to the bloody end.

Natalie sank to her knees in despair as tears coursed down her cheeks. Her eyes screwed shut as Matt made first contact with the massive shadow dragon, and she turned her face away, both in shame and from being unable to watch. Roars of anger, shrieks of pain, and howls of battle filled the air. Her fledgling blood allowed her to know which dragon made which cries, though not what was being said, and she knew most of the pained cries were coming from Matt.

"Come on, Matt," Lance muttered tensely. "Go for the throat..."

With Anna as cared for as possible, all that the gunner could do was watch Matt's battle. The golden dragon was doing an impressive job of holding his own, but it was clear that he was outmatched in both size and power. Agility was on his side, as were his unique shifts in and out of different sized forms to dodge and attack. He scored blow after blow on obsidian hide, and his foe's blood and scales rained down, but he took a blow for every hit he landed. It was a war of attrition that Matt couldn't possible sustain.

With his attention so focused on the battle, Lance never saw Natalie slip away down the opposite end of the ravine. The mage ran as silently as she could to the end of the narrow valley before taking a deep breath. Shaking fingers rose to the clasp of the mana suppressing pendant she'd sworn to wear at all times. Echoes of Matt's battle rang in her ears as she looked up at the goal they'd traveled so far to reach. With a shaky exhale, Natalie stared at the glorious altar to Godcat that towered in the center of the crystal encrusted box canyon.

She stumbled up the marble stone steps, fingers fumbling with the clasp to her pendant. A series of clinks echoed throughout the space as she let the trinket fall and clatter down the steps. The ugly beast that was her mana surged forth, eager to be free at long last. She held it back with an iron will as she reached out to place both hands on the altar that was icy cold and burning hot at the same time.

She'd only just begun to say a silent farewell when a weight tackled her off of the altar.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Lance snarled as he pinned Natalie to the ground with both knees on her back as he roughly clasped her abandoned pendant back around her neck.

Natalie said nothing in reply, and complacently let him roll her over to meet his glare, her own eyes were stolidly determined as he scowled down at her.

"This is my fault," Natalie informed him calmly. "I need to fix it."

"What part of Godcat's warning about the amount of mana required to reactivate her font did you not hear?" Lance hissed. "The drain will _kill_ you."

"I accept that."

Lance hauled her up by her shirt so that their faces were inches apart. "Well _I_ don't; neither does Anna, and Matt certainly doesn't."

"The choice isn't yours to make," Natalie shot back firmly as she brought a hand up to curl around his wrist, unapologetically digging her claws into his skin to make him let go.

Despite the pain, Lance refused to let her go. His words became more pleading. "Don't you realize what you'll do to him? He needs you just as much as he needs air! He'll irreparably break if you commit ritual suicide!"

Natalie's gaze shuttered some more. "It won't matter if that dragon out there kills him first. I don't even know why he keeps me around. What have I done for him these last few years? What have I done for any of you? Every path I take, every method I try, I make things worse. You all would be better off without me."

Lance let out a low snarl and his grip tightened as he shook her slightly. "If you would open your fucking eyes and _look_ , you'd know why he keeps you around! You are his entire _world_. He keeps trying to make everything better for you. He's out there fighting a beast that could easily kill him because he wants to defend you. He _loves_ you, you thrice-damned idiot, and if you do what you're trying to do, then he will spend the rest of his life trying to follow you. Do you _want_ him dead?"

"No," Natalie whispered.

"You sure? Because you seem to be doing a bang up job of killing him yourself!"

"I don't!" Natalie shouted, removing her hand from his wrist to grip his shirt like he had hers. She barely registered the shock in his eyes as she forced him off her to stand up, hauling him up with strength she'd never known she had. "I have never wanted Matt dead! I've never wanted him to get hurt! I've never wanted to hurt him! But you know what? _I'm not perfect!_ I'm an irrational mess, just like every other breathing creature on this gods-forsaken planet! I can only do what _anyone_ can do, and that's try to help! Is my solution perfect? No. Do I expect you to understand it? No. Do I think you have any right to stop me, to talk down at me like I'm stupid? No! I've heard you mutter to Anna and Matt about how much of a liability I am. I've seen you watching me, making sure I don't try to use my magic. I know you don't trust me anymore. Well, you know what? _I don't care_. You aren't strong enough to stop me, Lance. You never were, and you never will be."

Lance's throat was dry as he stared back at Natalie, taking in her glowing eyes with the slitted pupils, the way her fangs had elongated and steam hissed between them. And her words were so caustic, so desperate, and so damning, that he wasn't entirely sure she was still sane. Maybe stress and grief had finally snapped something in her mind.

Whatever the reason, she was right that he couldn't stop her. But he had to try, for Matt's sake.

"Maybe I can't stop you from being an idiot," he finally murmured. "Maybe you're too strong for me to stop. Maybe I shouldn't even try to stop you, just to prove that I was right to keep an eye on you. Maybe it doesn't matter."

Natalie's eyes narrowed as she willingly released him to let him step back. His eyes had gone blank they way they always did just before he fought a tough opponent.

"Whether I can or can't, I'm going to try," Lance told her as he drew his gunblade. "You're making a terrible mistake, and I think, deep down, you know it. That's why you're so mad and desperate: because you're helpless, and it frustrates you."

 **OOOOOO**

Matt staggered into the cavern, leaning heavily on Anna each step of the way, even though the ranger was hardly any better off. Blood steadily ran from numerous deep wounds in his chest and abdomen, and his chin was stained crimson from coughing on blood. Still, he refused to stop moving and rest so that his wounds could recover. He'd sensed Natalie's magic as well as Lance's, on a lesser scale; he needed to get to them, to protect them.

What he found caused him to freeze as despair welled in his chest. He barely felt Anna move from his side, leaving him to sink to the floor, as she raced as fast as her wounded body would allow to where Lance lay. The gunner was crumpled on the ground on his side, half curled in a fetal position. Around him were scorch marks and chips of jagged ice. His clothes had been badly burned and torn, and his gunblade lay in two pieces not far from his broken arm.

Past the fallen gunner was Natalie, slumped on top of the crystal altar to Godcat, which shimmered with fresh mana. The one arm he could see was heavily marked with mana burns. No one needed to explain what had happened for him to know. Natalie had sacrificed her life to reawaken Godcat's largest font. And if the battle-scarred area and Lance's broken form were anything to go by, the gunner had tried and failed to stop her.

Anna had her hands pressed to Lance's burned chest and was focusing what was left of her healing magic into his body. He was still breathing, but it rasped and faltered unevenly. He didn't even flinch when her tears dripped to land on open wounds on his skin, even though the salty liquid had to sting. She clumsily wiped her cheeks on her shoulders, and stubbornly kept channeling her magic despite the pounding headache forming behind her eyes.

"Ann... a...?"

The weak rasp caused Anna to start and open her eyes, unable to remember when they had shut. Dazed crimson met her own, bright with pain and glazed with exhaustion.

"Moron," Anna growled through a sob, though there was no real heat behind it. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I... wasn't...?" Lance replied with a pathetic attempt at a smirk that quickly morphed into a grimace as he breathed in too deeply and stretched his healing wounds. Eventually, his tight expression relaxed a little, and his eyes rolled to the side. "Is... Matt... here?"

Anna glanced over her shoulder at where Matt had limped over to Natalie's body and was holding it close to his chest. "Yeah... He's with-" her voice broke and she paused to clear her throat. "He's alive."

Lance's eyes flickered with a despairing shadow before shutting. "Natz... did it... huh?"

"She's gone," Anna quietly confirmed. She pulled her hands away from Lance's chest, having sealed the worst of the wounds and mended most of the burning. "There's going to be some scarring, I think. I'm sorry."

"Better than dead," Lance sighed with his eyes still closed. He was silent for a few seconds before slowly and carefully moving his arm to begin sitting up.

"Hey, hey, stay still. You're still really hurt," Anna urged worriedly. She gently pressed a hand to a patch of clear skin on his shoulder to force him to lie back down.

Lance merely gripped her wrist and stubbornly said, "Matt needs us."

Anna couldn't argue with that. Instead, she resignedly shifted her arm around Lance's shoulders to help lever him up and hold him steady as he sucked in a sharp, pained breath. She didn't say anything as he fought through the pain to stand up with her help and merely braced herself under his good arm to act as his crutch as he began limping towards Matt.

The dragon had Natalie clutched to his chest with his face buried in her hair. He was deathly still and silent, not trembling, and not sobbing, but his entire being emanated an aura of despair and anguish. Lance exchanged a somber look with Anna before pulling away to sit not far from the grieving dragon. Several long moments passed in silence.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop her."

Matt shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Lance. If it was what she wanted, then no one could have stopped her. But thank you for trying, and I'm... I'm sorry she hurt you so badly. I just... wish she'd told me, you know? Maybe... Maybe if I'd talked to her more... loved her more... she wouldn't have left me here. Maybe I would have been able to say goodbye." His shaky, lost voice broke in a shuddering breath that was nearly a sob, and he tenderly ran a hand over her orange hair and down her back as though he could wake her up, but didn't want to disturb her. "If only I'd stayed, hadn't gone to fight that dragon..."

Anna shook her head with tears on her cheeks. "I'm not sure any of us could have changed her mind. I think she had been planning this for weeks."

Matt finally drew back to lay Natalie down with immense care. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes red, though his face was dry. "She wasn't happy. Maybe she is, now. I hope she is."

Each of them were silent for a long, long time. Eventually, Matt pulled his dull eyes away from Natalie's pale face and looked at Lance and Anna.

"How're you feeling?"

Lance stiffly shrugged his good shoulder. "About as good as I look, I'm sure, but nothing that won't heal with time." He hesitated before nodding slightly at Natalie's body. "How do you want to bury her?"

Matt's mouth tightened, and he visibly swallowed before whispering, "I don't know what she would have wanted. Dragons and heroes are traditionally cremated, but her family has a cemetery north of Goldenbrick. She may have wanted to be buried there with her kin, if it's still standing."

Anna shook her head. "No. She told me once that her family had thrown her out at a young age, and she'd always resented them for it." Her voice fell some as she added, "We were her real family, she said: we took her in, we kept her company, and we watched out for her. Maybe we failed in the end, but if cremation is what we would want, then cremation is what she would have wanted."

"Cremation it is, then," Lance agreed quietly.

And so Matt slowly and stiffly retrieved Natalie's Crystal Staff from where it lay discarded at the foot of the altar stairwell and placed it beside Natalie. Anna had numbly adjusted the mage's arms to be resting over her stomach, and loosely brushed the mage's hair from her face. She quickly turned away before she could break down into tears, and retreated to where Lance had been propped against a fallen pillar. The gunner silently raised an arm in an offer of comfort that Anna sank into without a sound. Both watched as Matt stood over Natalie one last time before kneeling down. He bent over to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

"See you later... Natz," he breathed. His voice fell even further so that Lance and Anna couldn't hear and he added, "I loved you. I wish we'd had more time. I wish I could have given you the life you really deserved. You were, without a doubt, the greatest treasure of my entire life, but I... I hope you're happier, now."

With that, he stood back and drew in a deep breath, ready to breath fire over Natalie's corpse. And for a long moment, the breath caught in his chest as a pang of sorrow so deep and strong threatened to choke him. Natalie was dead. Again. Only this time there was no second chance for her. Bitter anguish rose in his throat to finally allow the tears to flow, and he let out the flames at last, engulfing Natalie in golden fire.

Anna let out a sob and buried her face in Lance's shoulder. Lance shut his eyes to the sight and rested his cheek against Anna's head as he tightened his grip around her shoulders. Matt took several steps back, numbly watching the flames, and only grateful that they were too bright to let him see Natalie's beautiful face blacken into ash.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up back at his den. Silk sheets had been drawn up to his chin, and a glass of water sat beside his bed. For a few moments, he naïvely thought that maybe it had all just been a horrible, extended nightmare. Then he saw Lance sleeping against the wall, one arm bandaged and in a sling with a blanket tucked around his shoulders and a low work bench bearing the pieces of his gunblade sitting nearby. Matt shut his eyes and curled up on his side, burying his head under the sheets to hide from the truth.

"You're awake."

Anna's soft voice sounded, and Matt grunted noncommittally, but didn't emerge. Several minutes passed in utterly silence broken only by Lance's sleeping breathing.

"How long have I been out?"

Anna shook her head, even though Matt couldn't see. "About a week. Godcat warped us here."

"I see. How's Lance doing?"

The dragon's voice was unnaturally flat and uncaring.

"Better, but it'll be a month or so before his arm is fully healed. Sooner, if I can get my healing magic up to snuff and he quits stressing his body. There's a pretty impressive scar across his chest, now, too." Anna paused for a moment before adding, "Godcat offered to heal him, but he refused. He's... pretty furious that she didn't intervene with... He didn't want her 'pity heals.'"

"Sounds like Lance."

Another period of silence passed before Anna spoke again.

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Thirsty? I know dragons don't need food and water as often, but-"

"I'm fine, Anna."

Anna's eyes hardened and she quietly refuted, "No you're not. Don't lie to me."

"I'm as fine as I can be, then. Now leave me alone."

Anna opened her mouth to argue, but ultimately closed it again without a word.

More silence, though this time with the occasionally rustle of paper.

"I need some time alone."

Anna looked up from the healing tome she'd been studying from over the past few days. "I don't think being alone is the best remedy," she cautiously warned.

"I don't care. I want to be alone. Once Lance's arm is healed, I want you both gone."

Anna's calm mask cracked a little. "You don't want to see us anymore?"

"No, I don't. I don't want to see anything, anymore. Not for a long time, anyway."

"What if we want to see you?" Anna pressed somewhat heatedly. "Lance has been in here every day, waiting for you to wake up. We're all he has! I know you're hurting from Nata-"

"Don't," Matt snarled, cutting Anna off, "say her name. You have no idea how I'm feeling—not really—so don't pretend otherwise. And don't use my grief to try and guilt me. For once, I'm going to be selfish, and to hell with everything and everyone else."

Anna bit back her next protest. "Fine," she whispered with tears in her eyes. "We'll go. But when you finally pull your head out of your ass, we'll be waiting, you hear me?"

Matt didn't reply. Instead, he kept his eyes screwed shut as he listened to Anna move and wake Lance, and their whispered discussion and Lance's upset protest before both headed out of the room.

They were both gone when he finally emerged four days later, and by the light coating of dust and stale scent, they'd left days ago. Matt shrugged darkly to himself and turned away from the sunlight outside his den. He didn't care that the sky was back to normal, and he didn't care that he'd chased off his last friends. Nothing mattered anymore. Natalie, his chosen and beloved queen, was dead by her own hand without ever knowing how much he'd loved her, and she'd taken part of him with her. Not even a summons from Godcat could get him to do anything, now.

 **OOOOOO**

Miles, upon miles, upon miles away, an entombed altar deep beneath the earth of Goldenbrick was pulsing with a gentle light. Mysterious white stone carved with ancient runes rose high from an obsidian base, pointing towards an arched ceiling jagged with stalactites. Ancient stories in a tongue long since forgotten were scrawled all along the monolith alongside raised reliefs of ancient cities and fearsome cats. Slinking shapes lurked in the shadows, hungrily eyeing the glowing monument, but unwilling to step into its glowing aura. A brilliant flash scattered them, and hisses rang out before fading into silence.

When the light faded back to the former glow, a slender shape had appeared at the base of the altar. A quiet groan echoed eerily before pale arms began shakily pushing a young woman off the frigid obsidian. Long hair cascaded over pale shoulders and was tucked behind a faintly pointed ear before the slender figure flicked one wrist and a ball of glowing light appeared over a palm. She flinched slightly in surprise, as though not sure where the light had come from, but quickly recovered. The brighter glow illuminated brilliant orange hair, and clear, grey eyes that blinked about the space in dazed confusion as the young woman staggered to her feet. There were no clothes on her body, but she didn't seem to notice as she nervously took a step forwards.

"Wh-where...?"

Her uncertain voice echoed back to her, and her shoulders timidly hunched a little before straightening. With a final glance around, the woman stepped down from the altar, her bare feet nearly silent on the stone. The ball of light cast eerie shadows on the various stones and statues she passed, and her eyes nervously glanced about, certain that she was being watched, but not from where. Nothing attacked her as she passed under a once-grand archway formed of the intertwined tails of two massive cat statues that towered well above her head and into a tunnel. Something about the statues was familiar and made her uneasy, but she didn't know why. A damp, chill wind blowing down the tunnel pushed the troublesome thought from her head and she shivered while hugging the arm not sustaining her light closer to her body, tucking the limb under her breasts.

The short passage soon opened up again into what looked like a massive, abandoned city. Everything was in ruins, now, but the woman imagined that it must've been grand, once. Soaring arches still stretched between magnificent spires in some places, while the crumbled remains of others were scattered across the ground in destroyed chunks. The streets, though cracked and broken up in many places, were made of finely smoothed cobblestone laid out in carefully planned paths that wound between the many buildings. Long-dried canal beds were filled with rubble or dirt, and rusted grates for sewer entrances stood out like barred cell entrances. A number of the largest buildings sported enormous carved sigils on their fronts of everything ranging from twisting trees to crossed swords. She wondered what the symbols were for. To identify buildings, or perhaps prominent families had once lived in them, or maybe the carvings were simply for decoration and didn't mean anything?

"Am I the only one here?" the woman wondered aloud as she walked between the buildings and stared around.

Her voice was low, as though she thought that to speak loudly would desecrate the somber sanctity of the ruined city. Still, her words echoed off the stone, quickly multiplying and soon sounding as though there were hundreds of people asking if they were the only ones there. The woman shivered at the eerie effect, but quickly gasped as everything around her seemed to abruptly change.

No longer was she striding through the abandoned streets of a forgotten underground ruin. Now, the sun shone warmly down on bustling crowds. Vendors shaded underneath colorful canopies lined the edges of the streets, calling out specialties and sales over the cacophony of the crowd, trying to entice the many passersby to come and browse their wares. Crystal waters flowed through previously dry channels, and the roofs and shutters of magnificent buildings gleamed with bright paint in the afternoon sun. Brilliant tapestries fluttered in a pleasant sea wind, and the woman could hear the crying of seabirds.

Perhaps stranger than any of that was that an enormous number of the crowd wasn't human. Sure, there were a fair number of ordinary humans, but the majority were certainly not human. The woman gaped at the sight of a group of several large, cat-like creatures bounded past, chasing down a scruffier cat with a bag of stolen goods in tow. All of them had four legs. Other, equally strange, creatures strode about in colorful robes of flowing fabric. They were tall, and humanoid in shape, but with pricked ears like a cat's, and entirely furred faces. Their paws were unusual mixtures of human hands and cat-like paws with sharp nails, furred backs, and padded palms. Their feet were bare, but once again a strange mixture of cat and human, bearing animal-like joints, but with the ability to provide upright support. Cat tails flicked behind each creature, or out from underneath skirts. Many had gold earrings and bangles looped around their arms and even on their tails.

"Maybe I fell asleep and am dreaming," the woman murmured uneasily as she backed up in confusion.

She stared at another passing cat-human, and found her eyes drawn to the female's garb. It was light-weight and flowing, but surely it had to be warmer than nothing at all? In fact, she didn't see a single person not wearing clothes—even the four-legged guard-cat-creatures had armor—and she suddenly glanced down at her nude self somewhat self-consciously. None of the crowd seemed to have noticed her, so maybe it was okay?

Then a group of children raced straight through her, and she jumped a foot in the air.

"G-Ghosts?" the woman squeaked as the blood rushed from her face. She calmed some as she looked around again and shook her head slightly. "...Or maybe an illusion?"

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The woman jumped again at the voice from right behind her. She spun around to see a tall, blond man with a beaming smile directed straight at her. He wore a simple tunic made of dark gray and black cloth, and an impressive sword with a gleaming golden hilt was slung across his back The corners of his clear sapphire eyes were crinkled with happiness and mischief, and the expression at once caused her heart to race and every muscle in her body to relax. She knew this man, somehow. He was a figure of safety.

The thought caused a shooting pain to stab behind her eyes, and she winced as she brought a hand to her head. Strangely, the action didn't cause the man to pause. If anything, his smile widened, and the woman jumped yet again as a different person bounded through her from behind to throw themselves into the man's arms. It was a young woman, dressed in a similar tunic to the man, with a short sword sheathed at her hip. She had short, black hair held off of her face by a thin, golden circlet.

A strange ache, stronger than her headache, formed in the woman's heart as she watched the man bend down to press a sweet kiss to the newcomer's lips. She turned away from the sight without quite knowing why their kiss bothered her so much, and found herself staring at a once again dark, desolate, and abandoned street. Gone were the crowds and stalls, the warm sunshine was once again blocked by the dark stone ceiling of the cavern, and the couple from the vision had vanished as well.

" _What is going on?_ " the woman wondered uneasily, afraid to speak out loud in case it summoned the vision back.

With a heavy swallow, she set out once more, carefully stepping over and around the stone chips and shards of ruined buildings while searching for any kind of life besides herself, or an exit. As she walked, she wondered if maybe the vision she'd seen was an image from the past. Had this city really once been above ground? Why had it sunk? Who had that man been? She was relatively sure she'd never before seen anything from the vision aside from him, but she couldn't even recall him well enough to be sure she really knew him. Even now, the only part of the man that she could clearly remember were his sapphire blue eyes. Yet looking at him had made her feel so safe and happy...

But what if—assuming the vision had, indeed, been a vision of the past—he was long dead? The dereliction of the buildings surrounding her couldn't have happened overnight, after all; the ruins had to have been as such for a very long time for all of the wooden shutters and stalls that she'd seen to be rotted completely away. But then, how had she gotten here, and how was she still alive? ...Or was she actually dead—merely a specter wandering the long-dead streets of her home in life?

The thought caused her to shiver again, and she found herself pressing one hand against the stone of the next building to be sure she wouldn't go through it. A thick coating of dust came off with her hand, but she thankfully didn't slip through the solid stone.

"Probably not dead, then," she nervously giggled to herself.

The giggle echoed just as earlier, and she found herself covering her ears to try and block the noise out, beyond creeped out by the sound of hundreds of giggles coming from all directions. After a few moments, she lowered her hands and was relieved to hear nothing once again and that she hadn't been pulled into a new vision.

Then she heard a distant howl echo through the streets, and her heart leapt into her throat. Soon, the sound of rapid footsteps coupled with scratching came echoing towards her, and she found herself twisting and running in what she thought might be the opposite way from the noise. Whatever had made that cry had definitely not been human, and she didn't think she wanted to meet it. Two more howls rose up, and her panting breaths caught in a sob of fear, and she ducked off of the street and into a nearby building to hide.

Ruined metal beams and shards of pottery and glass littered the floor inside, glittering in her magical light, and she picked her way carefully though the mess, heading for the half crumbled staircase behind a collapsed rusted gate on the far side of the room. Once she'd reached the stairs, she extinguished her light, and felt her way up the stone, and stumbled along the next floor with one hand on the wall to guide her until it met a corner. There, she huddled down with her heart pounding in her chest and listened to the muffled cries from outside.

In the next instant, she was blinded by bright light, and found herself trapped in another vision. With a whimper muffled by her hand, the woman stared out at a pristine room filled with carefully arranged chests and shelves while the walls were nearly covered in metal racks bearing weapons of all kinds from bows to swords, to staves. It was an armory room of some kind, she realized—or, at least, it had been, once. Two of the strange cat-people stood on either side of the stairwell she'd climbed with their backs to her and gleaming silvery spears in their hands. They wore armor made of the same silvery metal, but no helms, leaving their black furred heads exposed with their ears pricked upright. Light glinted off of their fur and armor, coming from a number of glowing crystals set in the ceiling.

The woman behind them managed to pull her eyes away in favor of examining the weapons in the room, again. Her hope was that maybe she'd spy something that might have survived well enough to be used. She glazed over the maces and mauls: their wooden handles would never have survived; the same was true for the bows, and she instinctively doubted that she could use a bow, anyway. Perhaps the swords, she mused, would be her best bet. Even a blunt, rusted stick would be better than her bare hands, but did she have the strength to properly swing one?

Then her eyes fell on a number of silvery staves leaning up against the wall in the far corner, and she had a feeling of déjà vu. Those were something she just might be able to use, and if they were made of metal, then maybe they would still be salvageable.

Then the vision faded, and she jerked in surprise as she found herself staring at pitch blackness. Everything was dead silent once more, and she vowed to keep it that way as she pushed herself off of the floor. No more noise out of her. Something was indeed alive down here with her, and they were not friendly. With that thought in mind, she flicked her wrist again and the ball of light reappeared, illuminating the ruined storeroom. To her surprise, a number of chests and shelves had survived the test of time, though in pathetic condition. Hinges had rusted off, and bugs had chewed holes through several of them. The shelves had crumbled into useless piles of splinters, and she could see the rusted, spiked heads of the maces she'd seen in the vision resting in the splinters.

With a shake of her head, she stepped forwards and began sifting through the piles of wood. Most pieces all but disintegrated as soon as she touched them, releasing the sickly sweet smell of rot, and she wrinkled her nose as she dug. After several minutes, she had managed to extract two broken short swords, the useless hilt of a broadsword, a rusted spear head, three left boots, and a pile of gleaming golden coins that had fallen out of a deteriorated leather satchel. The woman sighed and moved on to the next pile.

This one yielded slightly better rewards. She'd found an amulet that hummed with an unusual energy, and a rusted metal box that held a well-preserved dagger made of gleaming crystal. The hinges had protested moving with an ugly screech, and she'd frozen as her ears strained to hear if the noise had attracted unwanted attention. When all had remained silent, she withdrew the dagger and set it in the growing pile of potentially useful things, including the coins she'd found earlier, the amulet, and a fine chain belt made out of the same silvery material that the guards in her vision had worn.

The search took nearly two hours, due to the fact that she hadn't been able to sustain her light source without using her right hand until she'd nearly finished searching, but by the end, the woman was beaming. She'd found three silvery staves in nearly perfect condition under a moth-eaten tapestry that had fallen apart as soon as she'd pulled on it. Each one hummed in the same way the amulet had, and she realized they must be enchanted. How she knew that was beyond her, however, and she didn't want to think on it too much—her head always hurt when she tried to pull up anything useful from her memory.

Aside from the staves, crystal dagger, amulet, and coins, she'd come away with a healthy haul. Four enchanted bangles made of gold had been added to the pile, alongside a short sword made of the same metal as the staves—mythril, her brain suddenly informed her: the metal was mythril. She'd also found more gold, and some curious red crystals that were warm to the touch.

Finally, her greatest prize aside from the staves was a long robe-like garb, like those the cat-people in her vision of the market had worn. It was made out of a light, airy material that had been enchanted and seemed impervious to decay. It had been folded inside one of the last trunks she'd searched, complete with a sash made of the same material that had fluttered to the floor when she'd pulled the robe free.

The woman held up the robe with a critical eye. It was way too long for her, but was warmer than bare skin. The fabric had been dyed a rich blue, though the sash was golden colored, and it felt delightfully soft under her fingers. Now she simply needed some way to shorten it so that she wouldn't trip...

After a few moments of consideration, she knelt on the floor and spread the robe out. Then, she took her crystal dagger, eyeballed how short the clothing needed to be, and cut nearly a foot off of the bottom. It took a surprisingly large amount of effort to cut, despite its light and thin quality, but eventually she stood up with a triumphant smile, and pulled the robe up once more. Then came the challenge of fumbling with the multiple laces on the inside that held it shut. It took a few minutes of trying and redoing dressing, but she eventually figured out the strange design well enough that it wouldn't slip off, and double knotted the sash around her hips to keep it securely closed.

Now all that was left to consider was how to carry everything else. The answer, she mused thoughtfully, lay in the fairly large piece of fabric she'd shorn off the robe. And so she spent nearly a half an hour carefully poking small holes in the edge of half of the fabric she'd cut off and weaving the fine chain she had found through them. The end result was a crude drawstring bag large enough to carry her gold and the warmth crystals with plenty of room for anything else small that she happened to find. The ends of the chain were long enough to tie to her sash at her hip, and she did so with a proud smile.

" _Now then_ ," she thought as she turned a critical eye on the weapons. " _I can't carry all of these..._ "

In the end, she opted to leave two of the staves behind, and tucked the dagger and short sword into the sash at the opposite hip of her bag. At first, she'd feared the sword and dagger would cut the sash, but it turned out that to cut the fabric required more force and sawing than she was applying, and she wondered if maybe that was on purpose. The material was certainly stronger than anything so light and thin had any right of being. That gave her a brilliant idea.

Soon, she'd tied two strips of the fabric around each of her feet to protect them from debris and glass shards, like were downstairs. Her toes stuck out, but her heels and arches were well protected. It was warmer than walking on the bare, cold stone, too.

" _Just this tiny strip left_ ," the woman mused as she brushed a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time since waking up. With a grin, she used the final strip to tie her hair back from her face. " _Who knew one scrap fabric could be so useful?_ "

Feeling a lot more prepared and confident, she gripped her chosen staff in hand and set off back down the stairs. Already, her mind whirled with confusing images of fire and ice leaping before her, all under her command, and she decided that perhaps she was a spell caster. It made sense, given her ball of light and recognition of staves.

The streets were as empty as before, but this time, there were claw marks on the frames of several of the doors that she was relatively sure hadn't been there before. With a swallow and a prayer that she wouldn't get caught up in another vision at an inconvenient time, the woman set off down the street. She would reach the end of the city, then circle around the edge. There had to be an exit somewhere, after all.

She hadn't gone more than three alleys when a shape lunged at her from a second story window.

The woman barely withheld the instinctive shriek that rose in her throat, and she swung her new staff like a club. _Wrong_ , her mind scolded before she even connected, and even though her attacker had been knocked to the side and into a doorway before she could even really see what it had been. A few sparkles had briefly glittered in the air. Magic, she dryly reminded herself, wasn't about brute strength: it was about wit and willpower, and eliminating her foes. The irony of belatedly knowing more than she could readily recall, and of being her own teacher weren't lost on her.

Those thoughts soon fled from her head as her attacker came back out with a rattling growl that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She found herself staring at a walking skeleton. Several rib bones were missing from its chest, and it's lower jaw was gone entirely. Sharp fangs still hung from the upper jaw, but were scorched black, and empty sockets seemed to glare at her. Though she didn't know it, the light magic sent off by her smacking the skeleton had knocked its jaw clear off.

"Oh, boy," the mage mumbled.

She ducked to the side to dodge the skeleton as it lunged at her with a howl—the same one she'd heard earlier. It landed on all fours, twisted nimbly around, and lunged back at her with bony fingers and claws outstretched. The mage pointed her staff at the skeleton, but all that happened was a few useless sparkles glimmered from the tip. The sparkles caused a few blackened marks to appear on the skeleton's skull, and while it let out a pained shriek and jerked aside, it didn't stop it. If anything, the undead seemed to grow more furious, and it leapt again.

This time, the mage dove to the floor under the attack, rolled onto her back, and brought the staff up and around across the skeleton's midsection. Whether the staff was an effective blunt weapon or not, smacking the skeleton had worked earlier, and if the glimmers of light were any indication, then it could cause damage. And sure enough, the head of the staff smashed straight through the undead's spine, disintegrating the vertebrae, and causing it to land in two pieces. The top half kept moving, clawing itself around to try and attack her once more, but the bottom half entirely broke apart into a pile of inanimate bones.

The mage pushed herself to her feet, and brought her staff down on the skeleton's skull, destroying it and whatever evil force kept the bones moving. Silence fell, apart from her panting breaths, and she stared down at the pile of bones. She'd killed it, with a healthy dose of luck and chance, but it had been tenacious, and she was certain that she had heard more than one cry, earlier. If there were many shambling undead wandering the city, then she needed to leave now. Knowing she _could_ cast spells clearly wasn't enough to _actually_ cast them, and she didn't want to sit around to try and figure it out in a place where the dead walked and sought for her to join them.

In fact, she realized that the fight had caused a lot of noise, and she needed to move before others came to investigate. With that thought in mind, she set off at a jog down the alley, this time carefully and watching listening for more attackers. The silence of the city was oppressive, and the shadows seemed to be filled with moving shapes. It didn't take long before the palm gripping her staff had become slick with sweat from tension and nerves, and she shifted the staff to her other hand to wipe the sweat off on her thigh.

It seemed like an eternity of empty, twisting alleys before she finally came across something different. A large empty space—the town square, she mused—stretched out before her. A half-melted statue sat in the center, surrounded by ruined garden boxes.

After a cautious scan of the area and attaching alleys, the mage stepped into the open to curiously examine the statue. It was difficult to be certain what the subject had once been, but she thought that perhaps it had been of a cat, what with the one claw and the long shape that might have been a tail. It made sense, given what her visions had shown her of the city's inhabitants.

She reached out to touch the smoothed edge of the melted stone, and wondered how it had been melted. It had to have been an intentional destruction, because nothing else in the area had been melted. Perhaps it had been a symbolic show of dominance from an invading force? That would line up with the overall state of ruin that most of the buildings were in.

Suddenly, everything was on fire. The colorful roofs she had marveled at in an earlier vision had become great torches, bodies littered the streets of cats, cat-people, and humans, and she could hear the distant sounds of battle. Before her stood the statue, untouched and impressive. It depicted a muscular man holding a spear with a large cat standing at his side, fangs bared menacingly. It was, frankly, a rather terrifying sculpture, but it had a number of bouquets placed at its base, so she figured it was fairly well-liked by the inhabitants.

Not that any of the said inhabitants were there now. The woman looked up as a distant explosion illuminated the plumes of smoke billowing above the besieged city. A battalion of cats wearing full armor and wielding floating swords and shields came pouring into the square alongside humans with regular armaments. On the opposite side, cat-people formed a ragged defense of the largest street, down which she could see an impressive domed structure. The street had been where she'd come from, and she wondered if perhaps the temple—for it could be nothing else—had been where she'd woken up.

The cat-people looked exhausted and battered, and were greatly outnumbered, but they stood their ground with grim defiance. Growls and hisses rumbled in the air before exploding into yowls and screeches. Natalie covered her mouth with wide eyes, unable to look away as she watched the cats and humans brutally slaughter the defenders. They had all been living alongside each other, so what had happened to cause this massacre?

She didn't get long to wonder before a black shape came exploding into the fray. A pure black cat with red eyes and pulsing with power in a red aura had descended into the fray as the last cat-people desperately fended for their lives. The entire battle froze, and Natalie saw a collective shiver run through the crowd. The new cat was smaller than all the rest, and was built like a four legged cat, but stood on its hind legs. Its tail lashed as it let out a hair-raising yowl. Abruptly, all the attackers collapsed, and the woman was shocked to realize that they had died in an instant due to whatever the black cat had done. Only three battered cat people remained standing, and all of them sank into low bows with purred praises in their strange meowing tongue.

" _A god-cat?_ " she wondered in awe.

There was nothing else the creature could be. No mere mortal could simply cast an entire army into death. She watched the god raise one paw at the statue and allow black flames to melt it into the unrecognizable pile of slag it was now. The final image she saw was of a glimpse of a gleaming golden shape come soaring over the square to unleash a storm of fire on a cluster of buildings with a thundering roar that was answered by a second roar. Then the flames, the worshippers, the god, and the dragons vanished, and everything returned to the dark gloom of reality.

With a shake of her head, the woman cast an uneasy glance at the melted statue, suddenly wondering if the city had been cursed by the god. How else could a formerly prosperous city on the coast be cast into the earth to be haunted by the dead? She hoped the god was not lurking about now to curse her to join the city.

A now-familiar screech sounded from behind the mage, and she whipped around with a gasp. Three skeletons were bounding towards her, their cries echoing about the city and being answered by skeletons in different areas. The woman swallowed against the tight knot of fear in her throat, and berated herself for getting distracted by a stupid statue when she should have been practicing her magic.

Well it was too late now, and the skeletons were upon her. She slammed one across the side of the skull with her staff, knocking it clean off of the bony shoulders and causing the skeleton to collapse. The magic sustaining them must be centered in their heads, she realized as she ducked under a set of claws coming at her face. A few strands of hair were ripped out, and she hissed as she tugged her dagger free from her waist with her left hand and clumsily drove it up into the attacker's jaw. A split second later, and she let go of the dagger with a cry of surprise as silver flames engulfed the undead and burned it to ash with a high shriek of dismay.

A heavy shape slammed into the stunned mage, yanking her out of her shock, and she let out a cry of pain as chipped fangs dug into her forearm. A second later, and a different pain flared from her ankle, and she jerked her eyes down to see the skull she'd smacked off earlier had rolled back into the fray to bite at her unprotected leg. With gritted teeth, she ripped her arm free, splattering a few drops of blood across the stone ground. At the same time, she jerked her leg up and away from the skull in the ground, and while that sent her tumbling from a loss of balance, it also sent the skull flying.

The woman rolled a short distance away and came up in a crouch to draw the short sword, having abandoned the staff in favor of dodging. Just firming the dusty hilt in her grip told her that she had no experience, current or forgotten, in wielding blades. Luckily, her foes were few and stupid enough that a clumsy slash and a stab were enough to shear through their brittle bones. Two cracked and bloody skulls fell still on the stone ground, their magic broken.

With the battle won, the woman swiftly gathered up her dropped weapons, tucked them away, and took off down the opposite street she'd come from. No more touching anything, no more questioning about the city. She wanted out of the ruins and to a place not filled with undead. Blood ran down her arm from where she'd been bitten, staining the shaft of her staff, and every step left a single bloody footprint from her wounded leg. Luckily, adrenaline still pumped through her veins, and she felt next to no pain from the injuries, though she knew she would have to see to them pretty soon.

Behind her, the echoing shrieks of more skeletons now filled the air, telling her they knew there was an intruder lurking about for them to find. Perhaps more alarming was that she was also hearing a rumbling so low it felt more like a tremor through the ground. She could only hope whatever was making that sound was not something she would have to face down. There was no way she was ready to fight something large and dangerous; she counted it to be a miracle that she'd made it this far without getting killed.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she slowed to a panting stop at a large wall. The bite mark on her arm had clotted some time back, though the one in her leg still steadily oozed blood, and she saw a splotchy red trail down the street leading straight to where she stood. For a moment, she fearfully wondered if the undead were intelligent enough to follow the trail of blood she'd left, but she quickly pushed that thought aside. They were faster than her by far, which meant that if they'd been following the blood, then they would have caught up to her already.

With that hopeful—if somewhat baseless—conclusion, she turned her eyes back to the wall. It was enormous, reaching several lengths above her head, but large sections had collapsed into mounds of rubble. Whether the destruction was from the battle she'd seen in her most recent vision, from the city being sunk into the ground, or from natural decay over time, she didn't know, but it offered her a way to climb out.

And so she forced her tired legs to move and began the slow, careful clamber up the chunks of stone. It was dangerous work since the edges were often sharp, and the stones unsteady. More than once, she'd had to make a desperate scramble as her footing crumbled out from under her. At one point, her handhold had broken and she'd fallen a few feet, resulting in a large bruise on her lower back and right thigh.

By the end of the climb, she was exhausted, sweaty, her fingertips were bloody, and her entire body was sore. She took a few moments to simply lie on her back, staring up at the dark stone ceiling. The cries of the skeletons had faded into silence, and the ominous rumbling had vanished. Despite that, she felt even more uneasy. Her muscles remained tensed for combat, even reclined as she was, her heart thudded with anticipation, and she found herself listening more intently than ever—so intently that, for a few moments, she thought her heartbeat were thudding footsteps.

" _I need to get out of here,_ " she thought as she finally worked her breathing under control and stood up. " _Something is coming, and I don't want to meet it—not if I can avoid it._ "

Unfortunately for her, the chance to escape had already passed. With an earsplitting crash, made all the louder for the silence, and a rumbling growl so strong and close she felt it in her bones, the stone beneath her feet crumbled into nothing, sending her free falling to land and tumble down a staircase hidden in the wall. The woman cried out in shock and pain as she rolled down the steps before hitting a smoothed portion that slid her back to ground level. She tumbled to a dazed and groaning halt back on ground level and over twenty yards further along the wall.

Something hot was sliding across her face, and it took touching her forehead with trembling fingers to realize it was blood. Somewhere during the tumble, she'd scored a shallow scrape above her right eye.

"That's not good," she mumbled thickly as she sat up and summoned her light back.

The shimmering ball flickered uncertainly for a few moments before stabilizing, and she almost wished she'd left it out. The cave seemed to rock and swim in her vision, making her feel queasy enough to squeeze her eyes shut and swallow against the bile that rose in her throat. An abrupt screeching had her eyes snapping back open in time to see a massive skeleton come crawling over a building.

The beast was easily as tall as the wall behind her. Its skull was long and reptilian with yellowed fangs as long as her arm, and empty eye sockets that glowed with an unholy crimsom light, bathing the stone before it a bloody red. It crawled along on all fours, causing its claws, ribs, and the vertebrae in the tail to scrape along the ground with a hair-raising sound. Two boney appendages jutted out from its shoulders flicking open and closed like enormous finger-bones, and she realized they must've been wings at one point; the creature was an undead dragon—a dracolich.

The woman's stomach knotted in despair as her eyes darted every which way, trying to spy an escape. Adrenalin had washed away her former pain and dizziness and caused everything to snap into sharp and clear focus, and she spotted a half collapsed archway in the wall: the gate to the city, and perhaps her only hope... if she could reach it.

But the dracolich was too close now to try sprinting for safety. Even with its slow, clumsy gait, it covered more ground in one step than she could do in five while running. Destroying it seemed unlikely—she couldn't even fight three much smaller skeletons without getting bitten twice. And then the skeleton spoke, and she leapt a foot in the air in shock.

" _Goldwyrm, you return at last... No... You are not Goldwyrm, though you bear the foul worm's blood_."

Its voice was rattling and echoing, overlaid with an ancient hiss and immense fury. The glowing sockets seemed to flare brighter as it glared at her, and she felt her mouth go dry. Who or what was Goldwyrm, and what did the dracolich mean she bore their blood? For that matter, how was she understanding it speak? Its words certainly rang as unfamiliar, yet she had no trouble knowing what it was saying.

She licked her dry lips to wet them before asking in a quiet whisper, "Who are you?"

An angry hissing roar filled the air, causing her to flinch back, but the dracolich answered in a growl. " _Once, I was the greatest dragon to fly the skies of a glorious kingdom. All cowered before my might and rage! Gleaming crimson were my scales, and far did my territory range! Now I crawl here, a worm in a city of rotten bones, caged to endless stone_."

The dracolich had turned its head to contemplate the ruins it haunted, and the woman seized the opportunity to begin silently inching for the archway. Every step closer before she had to run mattered, which meant she needed to keep the dracolich distracted.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, unable to control a faint tremble in her voice.

An eerie clattering filled the air as the dracolich's bones rattled with fury. " _Long enough to rot to the form you see now. One century? Two? Ten, perhaps? There is no sun here, no stars, no sky to turn in immortal count_."

She had made it to the cover of some rubble, and ducked behind it, thinking rapidly. She was still too far to safely run, and had no clue if the archway even led to freedom. Her heart pounded with fear as she rapidly weighed her options. The dracolich was still distracted reminiscing, perhaps indulging in the first speech since it had become trapped here. A part of her felt guilty to be using its loneliness against it, but then she remembered the rage in it when it had first greeted her. Whoever Goldwyrm was, they had angered something so powerful it could continue to linger beyond death.

Suddenly, an angry roar filled the air, and she realized the dracolich had discovered her vanishing. Time was running out for her to make her move, and she still had no idea what to do. There was another several yards to her goal, and no cover between where she was hidden and the archway. A distraction, she desperately mused, was what she needed. But all she had at her disposal was a dagger not even half the length of one claw, a short sword she had no idea how to use, a staff she could only swing about like a club, and a useless ball of glowing light.

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Perhaps her light was the answer. If she could cause it to form in the shadows opposite of where she was hidden, then maybe she could sprint for safety while the dracolich was distracted. Of course, she had yet to even attempt summoning her light any further than a foot from her body, but there was no time like the present to learn. She hoped, anyway.

With a deep breath to try and calm her nerves, she cautiously peered around her cover to see the dracolich nosing through some rubble a yard or two away. It was closer than she'd thought, which made her heart skip a beat in fear. Then she pushed the danger as far from her mind as she could, directed her eyes to the edge of the ruined city, and focused.

For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Then, a tiny flicker of light appeared, winking uncertainly in gloom, too dim to really be noticed. She focused harder, a trickle of sweat running down the nape of her neck. A brilliant flash happened before a column of light erupted from where she was looking, and she toppled back in surprise, eyes watering. The ploy worked, and the dragon whipped around with a triumphant screech. At nearly the same moment, the woman slipped out from cover to dart into the open, half-blind. She judged that she was nearly halfway there when the dracolich caught on.

" _You dare attempt such pathetic trickery?_ " the dracolich bellowed. " _Stand and fight as your blood demands! I shall have my revenge on Goldwyrm, one way, or another!_ "

"I don't know any Goldwyrm!" the woman cried as she ran. "Whatever they did to you, I had no part in it!"

" _He struck me down, but refused to deliver the finishing blow! Instead he left me in the burning rubble, left me to be entombed in the earth! By his design or the gods', I have remained here, but no longer! With his blood, I shall be free!_ "

Well, that explained something, then: it needed her dead to break some kind of curse. Unfortunately, she had no intentions of dying here over some ancient feud. A chill along her spine had her diving to the floor, just in time to dodge emerald flames that shot past her head. Heat washed over her back and scorched the open wound on her leg, and she gritted her teeth as she continued scrambling half bent over. A claw swiped just short of where she'd been, gouging into the stone and sending chips flying into her calves.

" _Almost there,_ " she thought desperately.

An immense force slammed against her back, sending her hurtling through the air to tumble across the ground. A tingle swept through her body as a furious howl shook the ground. Green light illuminated the darkness as the dracolich unleashed another burst of eerie flames that slammed into some invisible barrier and spread over it. Not stopping to wonder _what_ or _why_ , the woman continued fleeing into a narrow passageway, echoes of roars chasing her. Scattered bones were crushed beneath her feet, thankfully not moving, and she didn't stop running until she could no longer hear the dracolich's roars.

Gasping for air, she slumped against a damp wall and sank to sit. Her scalded and bruised back protested the movement and rubbing, but she was too tired to do much more than wince. Lucky, she thought with a hysteric giggle, she had been way too lucky. The giggle soon shifted to stressed tears, and she simply sat there silently crying as the adrenalin flushed out of her system, leaving her shaky, tired, and in pain.

But she couldn't stay there forever. She needed to treat her wounds, find the surface, and maybe begin searching for answers as to why she'd woken up in an undead city. With a trembling grip on her staff, she pushed herself off the ground, summoned a new light—dimmer than before—and began walking.

An eternity seemed to pass there in the dark. She walked, but felt as though she was going nowhere. Eventually, she caved and curled up against a strangely warm wall for a brief nap, unaware of the lava tube running past several feet of stone. When she woke, her stomach growled at her, but she ignored it in favor of stumbling on. Her leg had healed during her sleep, as had the burns across her back, and she counted that as her latest blessing.

Finally, after an unknown amount of time had passed, she saw something new as she squeezed past a crack where a wall had crumbled. Suddenly, she was in a created hallway, lined with stone shelves, and smelling of the sickly sweet combination of musty herbs and rot. A crypt, her brain supplied, and she snorted.

"Of course it's a damned crypt," she muttered to herself as she crept forwards, casting a wary eye about. "And knowing my recent experiences, it'll be full of dead things trying to kill me."

But nothing moved as she wandered past embalming tables, deteriorating benches for worship, derelict coffins, carved epitaphs, creepy painted masks depicting the faces of the dead as they'd been in life, and dried offerings. It was only after she passed the same decorated urn for the fifth time that she realized she'd been wandering in a circle. With an aggravated growl, she deliberately turned down a new path that she'd been avoiding, lined with desiccated corpses wreathed in cobwebs that grinned at her with toothy death-smiles.

Finally, she found herself facing a set of heavy double doors barred from the inside. A pile of bones rested beneath it, and she realized with a chill that it had likely been a person who'd shut themselves in the tomb; she didn't think she wanted to know why.

With a shiver, she stepped over the skeleton, half expecting it to grab her, and lifted the heavy bar to set it aside. An ear-piercing screech filled the air as ancient hinges protested being moved, and dust rained down on her, and she was suddenly blinded by brilliant, warm sunlight. The woman coughed against the dirt she'd accidentally inhaled, and stepped triumphantly into the light with an overwhelming feeling of relief. A few seconds later, and her eyes slid shut, and slumped to the ground.

An entire day passed with her sleeping there, and it was just after dawn the next day that a murmur of voices woke her. She groaned and squinted against the morning light to see a trio of blurry faces peering down at her. For a moment, her heart soared without reason, before her vision cleared and she realized she didn't know these people.

The moment she moved, the three screamed and bolted, jabbering something she couldn't understand, and she jolted upright, expecting an attack. Instead, she was greeted with an empty graveyard and the sight of three people fleeing on horseback. The remains of a campsite sat just inside the graveyard gate, and she curiously pushed herself to stand. The tents had likely belonged to the three who'd awoken her, but she doubted they would be back. And since they were gone, maybe she could find some food among their things.

Twenty minutes later, and she was relaxing against a cracked monolith, chewing slowly on a piece of dried meat, having found several rations in the tents. She almost felt guilty for stealing, but decided that they had horses, and were more able to get more supplies than she was. And so she had helped herself to all their non-perishables, a loose blanket, a canteen half full of water, and a traveling cloak that was far warmer than just her robes. A second blanket made a decent knapsack for her supplies, and she figured she was as ready for travel as she could be. Now, she thought as she idly studied a gold leafed emblem on a crypt door, she just needed a direction.

 **OOOOOO**

Lance rolled his eyes impatiently as Anna got the three spooked men settled by the fire in an effort to get their story out of them. By how they were armed, he assumed they must be bandits or corpse looters, but something had apparently scared them enough to flee without gathering any of their traveling equipment. If he had to venture a guess, they had run afoul of some demon or hybrid, and he wished they would just spill so the pair could get on with their usual tasks.

"So, what happened?" Anna asked kindly as she ladled some warm stew into chipped bowls.

"We- We was travelin' back from a worksite, and ended up campin' by that old graveyard in the foothills. Nothin' happened all night that we saw or heard, but come mornin'..."

" _Vampire, maybe?_ " Lance mused in an effort to resist snapping at their poor grammar. " _No, a vampire wouldn't be out during the day..._ "

"There were a woman there, sleepin' in the grass. We thought she were a fresh corpse, but she woke, and her eyes..." the man's voice broke off into a shudder. "They weren't no human's eyes."

"What did they look like?" Anna pressed when the man remained silent for too long.

"Silver; very beautiful, but slitted like a cat's or a snake's," the man recalled. "Her hair were like fire: orange and littered with ash. She looked for all the world to be a human, but she ain't. There ain't no woman that perfect, even countin' for her eyes."

"Certainly not that would appear before idiots like these," Lance muttered under his breath. He stood straight and cast a glance at Anna, who was grinning at him for the remark. "So, what do you think it is?"

Anna shrugged uncertainly, "A succubus, maybe? Or perhaps just a glamour—a poor one, if it didn't change its eyes. Did the creature do anything to you?"

All three men shook their heads. "Nay, simply blinked at us. We ran before it could do anything."

"That was probably for the best," Anna sighed as she stood up. "We'll give you three canteens of water, some jerky, and a few blankets. That should last you to the next town, provided you don't take any detours."

Lance sighed at the generous donation, but said nothing until he and Anna were out of earshot. "You know they're just vultures."

"Maybe so, but they're still human. Besides, we needed to pass off those blankets, anyway—they were getting threadbare."

Lance's mouth curled in a half-smirk. "And here I thought you were being nice. For shame, Anna, giving them trash."

Anna shoved him with a laugh before turning her eyes to the trail ahead of them. Her faint smile widened at the low chuckle Lance gave, and she shot him a challenging look over her shoulder before taking off.

"Last one to the cemetery has to make dinner!"

"Cheater!"

A few hours later saw them stopping for the night, breathless and laughing. Anna flopped to sit on the ground beside the road, and watched lazily as Lance moved about to gather branches for a fire. Soon, a cheery blaze was burning and some flatbreads were baking in a metal box Lance had fashioned for baking on the road. With a timer set, and leftover venison that hadn't been used in their earlier stew charring on skewers over the flames, he settled down beside Anna and smiled as she leaned against his shoulder.

"Love you," she murmured sweetly.

"Love you, too," Lance replied along with a kiss to the crown of her head before laughing. "...Even if you always cheat at our races."

Anna barely suppressed a grin as she pulled away in mock-offense. "I don't recall anyone specifying a starting line!"

"Mm, yes, that always seems to be something you overlook,"

"I don't think I like your tone, mister," Anna scolded, unable to keep her grin contained.

Lance leaned closer, and his voice fell to a low purr that sent delightful shivers up and down her spine, "Then maybe you should quit being a twit."

"I will never understand how you always manage make something as childish and insulting as _twit_ sound so alluring," Anna whispered breathlessly as she leaned up to steal a quick kiss.

"It's a gift," Lance chuckled against her lips before he pulled away to nudge their bread out of the fire. He shot her a heated look at her huff and added, "And it helps that it's you I'm talking to."

"Flatterer," Anna snorted, though her cheeks flushed.

Dinner was a hurried affair, eager as they were for things that came after. And then Lance languidly reminded Anna of all the other things he had a 'gift' for, drawing moans, and gasps, and pleas from her throat until she grew impatient enough to flip them around and take what she wanted.

"You're always so impatient," Lance grunted as he thrust up with his hips.

"And you're always so slow," Anna shot back with a lopsided smile. She rolled her hips before canting faster, and panted, "Besides, I'm sure you can agree some things are better fast."

Lance's teeth flashed in the dim light from the fire as he rolled them onto their sides to more effectively hammer into his lover. It didn't take long from there for both of them to finish, and they slumped still, moaning and panting quietly. Anna scooted closer when Lance's arm wrapped around her, just under her breasts, and she leaned back against him with a long sigh.

"Awesome again," Lance breathed into her hair. "You'd think it'd lose its charm after a few hundred years, but no."

"Mm, I hope sex never loses its charm," Anna mumbled sleepily. "Next time, though, let's find a bed first. Camping sex has its perks, but I miss the sheets."

Lance's arm briefly lifted away from her to grope around for his adventure pouch to retrieve a large blanket, which he pulled over their cooling bodies. A brief shuffle later saw Anna's head pillowed on Lance's arm with her own arm across his chest, and the gunner's jacket under his head for a pillow.

They lay in drowsy silence before Lance mumbled, "So we're going to see Matt after we wrap this demon up, right?"

" _Mmhmm_ ," Anna agreed in a murmur. "Here's hoping he doesn't... try to...eat us... again..."

Lance snorted quietly and shut his eyes as sleep finally consumed him.

The next day saw their former race forgotten as they kept to a leisurely hike through the thinning trees. Both their faces still showed the glow of a morning after, though their conversation was serious as they discussed how to handle their foe. Anna was convinced that whatever it was couldn't be that dangerous if it had let three mostly unaware men escape it unharmed, though Lance was skeptical of that argument. It was possible, he'd pointed out, that whatever creature they'd disturbed was actually nocturnal, and disinclined to attack during the day. Eventually, both decided they'd have to do some preliminary scouting before engaging.

"Oh..." Anna breathed as the derelict gate of the cemetery came into view. "...I didn't realize we were so close to..."

Lance nodded somberly, eyes scanning the twin stone monuments of winged cats flanking the enchanted iron entrance marking the only way through high stone walls. The statues were carved from marble, but had cracked and worn with age and exposure, and hanging moss grew in clumps from the wings and tails. Still, there was no mistaking them as anything but the ceremonial guards to the graveyard where they'd had a monument erected to honor Natalie. Her ashes weren't buried in her family's cemetery, but it had seemed wrong to not have something to show her place among her passed kin, even if she hadn't liked them.

"...You okay?" Anna asked quietly, having watched Lance's expression shadow with memory and guilt.

There would always be guilt when he remembered Natalie and how he'd failed to save her—deserved or not. In fact, it had taken years before Anna had reached any kind of level of stability from the gunner. Years of sticking to him like glue, years comforting, and years of trying to keep him smiling and eventually happy. Even now, he sometimes woke from nightmares of the fight and how powerless and desperate he'd been, and she knew he still somewhat blamed himself for the turn Matt had taken to embracing a dragon's solitude.

Lance finally shook himself and nodded, "I'll be fine. Come on, I don't want to linger here."

And so they stepped inside the enclosure, and immediately spotted the campsite the three men had spoken of. It was clear that someone or something had already picked through it. Blankets were missing from the tents, and the only food to be found was a half stale chunk of bread—strangely, several staple items were also missing, like many of the utensils, though the pans had been left behind.

"Imp?" Lance suggested as they examined the site.

Anna shook her head and pointed to a print in the ash near the fire. "No, something humanoid—a woman, and probably our otherworldly beauty. But the size and width... she's wearing some kind of cloth wrap instead of proper footwear."

"Not a glamour, then, if she's leaving physical tracks, and she can't be some kind of ghost or wraith," Lance surmised as he knelt to also inspect the mark. "I don't see any sign of claws on the feet, either, so she isn't a lesser beast, and vampires are too vain to not wear shoes, so what could she be?"

"A halfbreed?" Anna wondered as she stood straight and scanned the campsite again. "That would explain the missing blankets and food with no sign of rodents scavenging; might explain why she had no interest in attacking the men, too. Maybe she's made her home here and they simply startled her."

Lance shrugged as he stood as well. "Maybe. See if you can find any other tracks around here; maybe we can track her. Don't attack unless she's aggressive."

Anna nodded and began rapidly quartering the ground, eyes darting about for signs of passing. The trail was fairly easy to find and follow in the soft earth, and they traced it backwards to find where the men has awoken the woman. They studied the open crypt with a frown, eyeing the way the bar had been on the inside and lack of evidence of forcing before deciding there must have been a second entrance. Anna led the way forwards once more, trailing around the cemetery to various crypts that had been opened and looted of anything valuable.

"A grave robber," Anna sighed as they neared the last building. "Well, I suppose it's all just going to waste here, but still..." She suddenly froze and raised one hand to halt Lance, her head cocked. "Well, well, I think our robber is still inside. The trail doesn't lead away again, either."

Lance nodded and readied his gunblade, now edged with pure silver. He stole to one side of the door and waited there as Anna circled the building to be sure there were no other exits. Then, on a silent count, they forced the door open, weapons raised threateningly.

A loud clattering filled the air alongside a surprised scream, and gold, jewels, and cutlery spilled across the ground. A slender figure had spun to face them, clutching an adamantine staff in her clawed hands with a clumsy grip. Her face was hidden by the hood of the cloak she wore, but her bangs were clearly a fiery orange, and her eyes reflected the light in an unnatural way.

"Put the weapon down and we won't hurt you," Lance ordered sharply. When the woman refused to comply, he raised his weapon slightly, "I'm warning you: last chance."

Instead of putting her weapon down, the woman flicked her hand and a ball of glowing light shot forwards. Lance arched a brow at the illumination spell and let it harmlessly hit his chest where it glowed. The attack, if he even deigned to call it as such, was pathetic, even as a distraction, and he easily snagged the woman when she tried to run past. He caught her wrists and held her firm as Anna moved forwards to pull her hood back.

And time seemed to freeze as an achingly familiar face glared at them—familiar even after so long. It was Natalie, right down to the freckles on her nose. Everything was exactly as they recalled, apart from her eyes, which were now a strange silvery-gray instead of the sea green they'd been before. It was clear she didn't recognize them as she fought wildly to escape with panic fueled strength. Any doubts they might have had of whether it was really her or not vanished when she spoke in a long-dead language.

"Let me go! I didn't escape a dracolich and his horde of undead cats just to get caught and killed by a pair of bandits!"

"N-Natalie?!" Anna gasped, releasing the mage, who immediately broke free of Lance's slack grip to cower in the corner.

Natalie's face showed some hesitant confusion at the sound of her name, but her eyes were mistrustful. "Who are you?"

"Gods, how the hell are you alive? Where have you been? Oh, just wait until Matt knows!"

Lance had moved past his initial shock and was now studying Natalie's baffled expression. He waved a hand to calm Anna down and murmured, "She doesn't understand you. If this is really Natalie returned from the dead, then she doesn't know the current dialects." He raised his voice and said, "Natalie, it's us: Lance and Anna. Do you remember?" His words were slow as he attempted to remember the the language and sentence structure of his birth.

Natalie relaxed somewhat at his words and shook her head ever so slightly. "No, not really, but I don't remember much of anything. You seem... really familiar, though." She hesitated, eyes darting between them. "You called me... Natalie. How do you know me? Or, maybe, how do I know you?"

Anna's expression sobered, and she exchanged an uncertain look with Lance. "Why don't we go outside? We can talk over some food."

Natalie's gaze darted between the pair, unsure whether she could trust them or not. Ultimately, the relief pumping through her veins convinced her to slowly nod. She definitely knew them on some level, and they hadn't actually hurt her beyond scaring the life from her when they'd burst in. Lance stepped back and to the side to let her go first, and her gaze darted to the floor where all the beautiful gems and gold she'd found were scattered.

Anna laughed softly. "You can gather your spoils. Not sure what's turned you to grave robbing, but it's technically all yours, in a way."

Natalie's eyes lightened and she crouched to begin pulling her gold back into a pile on her stolen blanket. When Lance bent to help, however, she let out an instinctive hiss at him, and he jerked back in surprise before realization filled his expression. Natalie looked mortified at the noise she'd let out and mumbled an apology, but Lance's mouth was twitching with amusement, not disapproval. He shook his head at Anna's confused glance and shot her a meaningful look that said he would explain later.

Eventually, they all exited the crypt with a sizable bundle of valuables clutched in Natalie's arms. Anna's brows rose at the sight of a dagger and a short sword at Natalie's waist, and she realized the mage's entire outfit was strange. The robe she wore was sloppily cut short and stained with soot and blood, though clearly of fine make, and her feet were wrapped in strips of cloth rather than shoes or boots. A makeshift pouch was tied at her waist, and bulging with several items.

"Where'd you get the robe and weapons?" Anna finally asked when they were seated at the abandoned campsite.

Natalie shrugged with a glance down at herself. "I found them in a ruined city. It was better than nothing, and I wasn't sure what I knew, but after some trial and error, I think I've discovered I have no idea what to do with a sword." Her eyes were distant as she murmured, "I must be a mage, I think. I can see fire leaping, and lighting, and ice, but I can't figure out how to use them. It's been... frustrating. And scary."

Lance spoke up from where his eyes were fixed on stoking the fire. "You're definitely a mage, and we can help you get back to where you were, but you can't fear that power. Fearing it was what- It can get you hurt." He sat back now that the fire was burning strong and turned his eyes on Natalie's strange silver ones. "Now, what happened? The last time we saw you was a long, long time ago, and we thought you were gone. Tell us everything you know and remember."

And for the next hour and a half, Natalie recalled everything that had happened to her: where she'd awoken, what she could remember of the strange visions, her lucky but successful flight from the undead and a dracolich. She laid out everything that she had deduced about herself from the fleeting moments of recollection and déjà vu, occasionally stopping as she abruptly remembered extra things here and there as she spoke. The more she talked, the more comfortable she became, sinking into a feeling of familiarity with Lance and Anna that felt _right_ , like she had found something she hadn't even realized was missing until she had it again. And unbeknownst to her, the more she remembered here and there, the more flecks of ocean blue would appear in her eyes.

When she finished, the sun was well past its height, and Lance and Anna were stunned. The pair's eyes met in unspoken agreement as the truth washed over them. Natalie shifted somewhat uncomfortably as the silence stretched on for too long.

"So, um, do you have any idea what happened to me?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Anna's lips pursed, but she nodded. "This is going to sound like crazy talk to you, but-"

"I think an entire necropolis guarded by a raging dracolich is crazy talk, but it definitely exists," Natalie interrupted mildly with a wry smile.

The ranger laughed and nodded in agreement before leaning forwards earnestly. "Not too long before we last spoke, we—us three and another—swore a pact to Godcat. We serve as her guardians in exchange for extra strength, magic, vitality, and life. In addition to that, there are unique circumstances for certain kinds of... deaths."

Natalie nodded in understanding, her brow furrowed as her brain scrambled to absorb and retrieve the information. Her eyes turned to Lance's when he picked up where Anna left off.

"You died restoring one of Godcat's major fonts to proper order," he bluntly informed Natalie. His eyes were fixed on a point past Natalie's shoulder, and were dark with remembrance. "It was a... really messy affair. You had been horribly off balance from prior circumstances, all of us were handling everything very poorly, and we had run out of the options we thought we had. The end result was that our team was splintered: you had sacrificed yourself to seal a rift to a violent dimension, and Matt was devastated."

Natalie's face had gone white, but her eyes were stormy with rapid thought. She had died? Her brain hurt from absorbing so much information, but it seemed to agree with the news. But if she had died, then how was she here now? And who was Matt? Just hearing his name sent a mixed pang or longing and guilt through her, and she wondered what he'd meant to her before to cause such an intense reaction from simply hearing his name.

Anna unwittingly answered the first of her questions, her words soft and reverent. "Suiciding isn't allowed under the pact—the suicided will simply reform at the god's main altar—at the altar you mentioned waking up at. We thought—we never considered that transferring enough mana to die in the process of restoring Godcat's font would constitute as suicide, but it must have, for you to be here now." Her emerald eyes were suspiciously wet as she scanned Natalie's silver-flecked blue ones. "I... I've really missed you, Natz—we all did. I'm sorry you were all alone and in so much danger when you returned, but I'm so glad you're back."

Natalie swallowed against the lump that formed in her throat at Anna's emotional words. Both Lance and Anna were watching her with a sort of fervent joy, but they also looked wary, and it took her a few moments to realize why.

"I forgive you. And I... I didn't realize I'd missed you so much, but I did. Thank you for finding me."

Lance cleared his throat, and blinked rapidly before smirking. "Well, we were actually here to track down a 'woman too beautiful to be real'. Those men you scared will be telling stories about you at bars for drinks for weeks."

Natalie's cheeks flushed red, and she shot Lance a glare that had his smirk widening. Ultimately, she gave up and shook her head. "So, what happened to Matt?"

Instantly, Lance's smile vanished, and Anna winced. Natalie's heart plummeted and began to race with fear.

"He isn't... dead... right?"

"No, but he's... isolated," Anna admitted quietly. She couldn't quite meet Natalie's eyes as she explained, "He took losing you incredibly hard. He's practically a different person, now. We were going to visit him tomorrow, but maybe that should wait until you remember as much as you can without meeting him."

Natalie frowned and glanced between them. "Will he attack us?"

"Us? Yes," Lance agreed, gesturing between himself and Anna before nodding at her. "You? I'm not sure. He may recognize you and hold himself back, or he may assume you're some kind of shapeshifter and try to eat you in rage."

" _Eat_ me?" Natalie repeated with a frown.

"Ah, that's right, you wouldn't remember. Matt's a Wyrm: a very old and very powerful dragon. He has a human form he used when hanging out with us and before we knew the truth, but he's never in it now. He much prefers filling the dragon stereotype: lying on a mountain of gold and jewels in remote cave, and incinerating anyone who comes close," Lance explained with a roll of his eyes, though his tone was sad. "We still visit every once in awhile, hoping he'll come around, but no luck, yet."

"Matt is a _dragon_?" Natalie gasped in disbelief.

Anna nodded empathetically. "The last true one left. Though, he shared his blood with you, so you're a half dragon of sorts."

Natalie's jaw dropped and she felt lightheaded. "I'm a _what?_ "

"Maybe you should lie down, get some sleep," Lance suddenly suggested with a worried look at Natalie's shock. "It's been a long several days for you, and this is all a lot to take in."

"I think that would be a good plan," Natalie agreed weakly.

Before long, she was curled in Anna's borrowed sleeping bag inside their tent, and quickly fell asleep while Anna and Lance remained awake to talk.

"I still can't believe it," Anna murmured as she sipped on some tea. "Natalie is back."

Lance nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. And she seems... better... than when she left. Not so angry and afraid." His smile faded as he cast a look east in the vague direction of Matt's den. "We can't hide this from him for long. It wouldn't be right."

"I'm worried about how little she remembers about him, though. Her being back but not loving him like she used to won't end well. Dragon's are possessive and loyal, after all. And what if she does remember everything else and it triggers a relapse? No, I think it would be better to take her to some familiar places and see if we can help her memory further before we bring her to see Matt."

"Not a lot of places left that she'll recognize," Lance pointed out. "Goldenbrick is nothing like it used to be, and Whitefall is a complete ice field, now."

"But Greenwood hasn't changed much at all. Let's at least take her there, first, and see what it does for her memories. If nothing else, we can get her some proper clothes," Anna suggested firmly.

"Alright, but best keep an eye on her. She might go for the Jewel as she is now," Lance laughed. His smile widened at Anna's bemused look, and he gestured at the sack of stolen goods Natalie had retrieved from the graves. "She's hoarding. I don't think she realizes it, yet, but her dragon blood is attracting her to shiny things. I mean, why else would she only take the gold and jewels? And she took the gold and gems she found underground, too, even though she was clearly thinking about what would be useful or not when she armed herself."

Anna's eyes widened and she covered her mouth to try and muffle her laughter as she realized Lance was right.

 **OOOOOO**

Natalie trailed along behind Lance and Anna with her head twisting about, trying to take in everything around her all at once. The more she looked, the more her head hurt, and the more she needed to see. The village was unusual, with houses formed in the bases of live trees. Everyone had green hair and eyes, like Anna, and wore content smiles on their faces as they went about tasks like weaving, stacking firewood, farming, and chatting. It all looked and felt so familiar—even the sweet smell of the clean air was painfully familiar, though she recognized none of the villagers.

Their path led them past a large stump covered in moss and flowering vines. A chain of paper talismans had been hung around it, and there was a low table holding a few offers of flowers and food. Atop the stump rested a glowing emerald shaped like a leaf and edged in gold. Its very surface seemed to resonate power, and Natalie found herself drawn to it despite a voice in the back of her mind telling her it was off limits for very good reasons.

A hand clapping down on her shoulder had her starting out of her daze, and she jumped and turned to see Anna grinning at her.

"I know it's really shiny and pretty, but you can't add the Greenwood Jewel to your hoard, Natz."

Natalie nodded mutely before turning her eyes back on the jewel with a troubled frown. "There are... two more, though, right?" she asked slowly. "Are they here, too?"

Lance was the one to reply. "Yes, there are two more jewels, and no, they aren't here. It's dangerous to have even two together, and having all three in one place makes them all start reacting with each other. Originally, there were two other towns guarding the other two jewels, but they're gone now."

"But what happened to the jewels? Were they destroyed?" Natalie wondered as she finally tore her eyes away from the glowing emerald to look around at the sleepy village again. "And why is Greenwood still okay when the other towns aren't?"

The place didn't seem equipped to survive an event that had wiped out so many of the towns and villages they'd passed on their way here. Demons ran rampant almost everywhere, and where there weren't demons, bandits roamed. Though, Lance and Anna had seemed reluctant to talk of the event, so maybe it simply hadn't been as widespread as she thought.

"No, we moved them long before the towns were destroyed," Anna admitted quietly. "It isn't safe to talk about their location, though: you can never be sure who, or what, is listening, after all. And in the wrong hands, the jewels can be powerful and deadly weapons."

Natalie frowned as Anna avoided her question about Greenwood, but she followed behind the pair as they moved on. Soon, Anna was welcoming her inside a tree house—her house, she'd explained—and they were seated in a loose circle around a table with glasses of some kind of alcohol.

"So, does anything seem familiar? Lance asked, leaning forwards expectantly.

"Yes, very much so," Natalie agreed with a faint smile. Her smile became a little more wry as she admitted, "It's so familiar I keep having to remind myself that I'm awake. Although... none of the people are familiar to me at all, but then they wouldn't be if as many years have passed as you say."

Anna's smile was a little bittersweet as she looked out the window. "I can sympathize with that. I was born and raised here, and nothing much has changed except for the families. It can be hard, sometimes, to walk into the food court and realize the faces I'm seeing aren't the ones I was expecting." Her distant eyes cleared and she added more cheerfully, "But they're family regardless, and I love them; even if their stories about me get weirder every generation."

Lance snorted into his cup and told Natalie, "You should have seen her face when she heard a group of kids calling her the First Ranger. They've got an entire story explaining about how she was born from the trees and the wind, and formed Greenwood single-handedly, pulling all the first villagers from the mud. It's great."

Natalie smiled as Anna flushed pink with a groan. "Were you a founder of Greenwood, Anna?"

"Hardly. The village was already ancient when I was born. I suppose to most people, Lance and I must seem like demigods, but we're not—just really old and really skilled. Sadly, most of the documents from back then have rotted away with time and were never transcribed, so I can't prove it. A few of the elders know the oral history, but those change slightly with each telling, so they aren't one hundred percent accurate, either." She shook her head with a fond smile before moving on. "So, how has the mana focus been going?"

Natalie wasn't quite ready to change topics—everything she was hearing was so fascinating—but she shrugged. "It's going well. I dispelled that rainstorm that was following us, but I don't think you guys noticed. Plus, I haven't used the flint and tinder to start the fire at night for the last week."

Lance and Anna exchanged glances. Natalie was back to having fine enough of control to light a small spark, but broad enough of a range and effect to alter the weather; she'd shown competence and skill in the few battles they'd had, wielding all the elements she used to before her amnesia. It seemed as though her knowledge of magic was as good as they could teach.

The silence stretched on, and Natalie waited somewhat uncomfortably as Lance and Anna seemed to hold a silent conversation. Their expressions were serious, but reluctant, and she wondered if maybe she'd missed something important. A twinge of unease fluttered in her chest as she thought of the strange dreams she'd been having since rejoining them.

"I... Did we fight at some point?" Natalie asked quietly. "Me and Lance, I mean."

She couldn't imagine why: Lance had been an upmost attentive and caring friend, though also an insufferable twit sometimes. Yet the gunner stiffened at her question, and his hand rose to unconsciously rub at his chest. Natalie's eyes darkened as she recalled the faded scar the stretched over his torso.

"It isn't important, now," Anna said flatly in a tone of finality.

But Natalie was tired of having her questions subverted or ignored. She was tired of being cautiously explained things that should have already been hers to know. They'd purposely worded their answers to her most important questions to be as vague as possible, and she wanted to know why.

"Guys, I think I've remembered as much as I'm going to off of coincidence and experiences alone. Now tell me the truth, please. Why did I decide to kill myself back then when there were other ways to achieve what I did? When and why did I attack and harm Lance seriously enough that he has scars centuries later? What happened to the world that made so much of it look completely different than from what I can recall?"

Lance's face crumpled and Anna's eyes darkened. They exchanged a final look before standing.

"Let's go to the story teller's hut," Anna quietly said. "You need to hear what happened from a neutral party, and his visions are... vivid. You'll get to see what happened exactly as it happened." Her voice fell even further as she quietly added, "Just... remember that while you can't change the past, you can learn from it. Don't make the same mistakes as we all did back then. Please."

"And don't be afraid of it," Lance somberly supplied. "Fear and close-minded thinking were what caused it all. Take what you've experienced and felt since waking up, and use it to judge what you're told and will see." He wouldn't quite meet Natalie's eyes as he walked around her. "I don't hate you for what happened, and I understand why it did happen. I just hope you'll be able to reach the same conclusions we did. And if you do, then we'll take you to see... It'll be time for you to meet Matt."

Now Natalie was incredibly nervous. Their entire attitudes had shifted, and she was afraid of what that meant she was about to hear. A feeling of unnamed dread and helplessness began to bubble in her stomach, and she suddenly wondered if maybe she didn't want to hear the answers to her questions at all.

Then, her dream of a smiling blond filled her mind, and her face set. There was no else that blond could be but Matt, and she wanted that feeling of safety, warmth, love, and homecoming back. And if she wanted him back, then she needed to remember; even if she now felt like she was about to see her own funeral.

The storyteller's hut was a long, fallen trunk with smoke rising from a raised section of bark. Symbols and stories had been carved on the walls, depicting legends and monsters. There was no door, but a heavy colored cloth was draped across the entrance, and a faint glow came from underneath. Lance and Anna led the way to the door before stopping and turning to face Natalie.

"We'll wait for you here," Anna announced.

Lance nodded and hesitated before reaching into his adventure pouch and holding out a tarnished necklace with a glowing charm hanging from it. "...Take this with you. If you feel yourself losing control, put it on. You don't have to, of course, but it will help if you think you can't control yourself on your own."

Natalie's fingers trembled as they closed around the pendant, and her throat was dry. "Why won't you come in?" she asked in a small voice.

"The story teller's magic works off of memories—either from a single person, or a collection from a crowd. We were all there when this event happened, and we all remember it slightly differently; we don't want to skew what happened with our own thoughts and regrets," Lance explained quietly. His eyes drifted to the side and he added in a low whisper. "I don't want to see it again, anyway."

Anna's smile was wan as she rested a hand on Natalie's shoulder. "You'll be fine, Natz. Just remember that everything you'll see is made of illusions and smoke. Nothing in there can hurt you. We'll be waiting right here when you come out. I promise."

Natalie swallowed and nodded back before pushing her way past the cloth drape. Inside the hut was warm and dark compared to outside. A fire pit blazed in the center with smoke rising up to drift out of a hole in the ceiling. Tapestries hung from the walls and ceiling depicting the same stories as decorated the walls of the hut outside. A sweet scent filled the air from incenses burning on an altar in the back.

For several moments of careful scanning, Natalie thought that maybe she was the only one inside, and nearly turned around to head back out. Then, a huddled shape shifted in a chair across the fire from where she stood, and she jumped. An elderly man with long, green hair so faded it was nearly gray raised a wizened hand to beckon her to take a seat. His eyes were bright and sharp with intelligence and wisdom, and his smile was warm and open.

"Welcome, stranger, to Greenwood's story hall," he greeted in a rasping voice. "What brings you to me? Is it a thirst for history, for forgotten rites, for songs of the ancients? Perhaps you wish to hear tales of great heroes and triumphant hunts? Or do you seek legends so chilling that the moans on the wind will haunt you for days to come?"

Natalie found herself distracted by a wisp of smoke that she swore had formed a seed that rapidly sprouted and grew into a tree. In the next instant, she blinked, the image was gone, and she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not. She shook herself and brought her eyes back to the storyteller who watched her with a knowing gleam in his eyes, and found herself telling him something that she was sure would sound insane to anyone outside of herself, Anna, and Lance.

"Anna told me that you could tell me what happened before I died," she whispered. "Something happened that changed the world, and I can't remember what it was, and she and Lance won't tell me."

The storyteller's gaze flickered with shadows before something akin to realization and surprise lit his eyes. "Ah, you must be Natalie, their late fourth companion—though clearly not as dead as they once assumed." He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, and reached to a small covered pot sitting on a table beside him. "The story you seek is a tragic one, filled with accidents and consequences. You were a focal point to many of the events that passed, but know that no matter actions taken, no matter the intended purpose, or the results, the world survived and carried on. No one person can truly hold the blame for everything—not you, nor I; neither Lance, nor Anna; neither Matt, nor even Godcat herself. Do you understand me, Natalie?"

"I... I think so," she replied uncertainly. "I shouldn't blame myself or anyone else for things that now seem so obviously stupid."

"Nor should you blame anyone in the future for making decisions based on the facts they had," the storyteller agreed. "Now, this tale takes us back over seven hundred years, to a time when demons did not exist, and great swathes of the land remained unmarked by Man's hand..."

Natalie's fingers curled in the skirt of her dress and she listened intently as the storyteller's voice took on a deep, resonating tone. And the more she listened to him describing a stormy night where three friends fought and lost to their fourth friend, the more she thought she could actually see the events. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck as the fire flared a little higher and smoke filled the air from a dash of powder being thrown upon it; her heart began to beat faster with an anxious dread before all but stopping as a phantom pain pierced it.

But the story didn't stop with Matt leaving herself and the others in the cave with a ruined altar. It danced across years of unease and mistrust, delved into a tentative truce among friends and fragile bonds being reforged. Natalie didn't notice the tears now trailing down her face as she saw and remembered losing control, and lashing out at Matt. She didn't notice that the story teller's voice was barely an echo as she relived hiking up a mountain trail. She didn't hear when he faltered and seemed to study the mists and images he'd conjured from her mind and his magic before continuing on.

Fear choked Natalie's throat as she suddenly realized that it was her actions that had ripped open the portal that allowed demons to flood her world. The others hadn't known what had caused the rip, and she hadn't told them, but she remembered them suspecting the truth; Lance had gotten Matt to dig up an artifact to collar her magic, an artifact she now had clenched in a sweaty palm. Godcat had certainly known when she'd summoned them to discuss reinvigorating a font, yet the goddess hadn't told her friends, nor blamed her for her foolishness.

Gods, how many hundreds- _thousands_ had died because she'd set hordes of demons upon them? She had single handedly altered the natural course of the entire world by trying and failing to control her magic. It made her sick to think about it, and the feeling of nausea rang true from her memories. And so she'd made a desperate promise to the dead and living to fix her mistake, no matter the cost.

Her life had seemed so valuable at the time, she bitterly thought. How vain, to think her own life ending could possibly make up for the thousands of lives she'd stolen, and the thousands more she could have saved had she stayed alive.

And what of Matt? He'd dedicated his existence to the careful guarding and comforting of her. He'd loved her, offering her something she had thought she would never have from him. But once he'd offered it, she hadn't been able to accept it.

It was no wonder he'd retreated from the world after her death. Who could blame him? He'd survived centuries upon centuries of cruel servitude, and countless people had wormed their way into his heart only to betray him, and she was no different. If anything, she had been worse, having successfully won his heart only to refuse it. He'd assumed she would be fine with or without him, and had left her behind to face a superior foe alone. But that wasn't what she had thought: she had thought he'd blamed her, and she'd chosen that moment to make everything up to him.

And Lance had tried to stop her. He'd faced her down, first with words, and then with actions. And just like with Matt's heart, she'd trampled over him. That scar on his chest was the mark she'd left. She'd turned the elements upon him, and he could never have overcome her magic—gods, she'd _set him on fire_. How could she look him in the eyes now? She easily could have killed him, and unlike her, he would have been permanently dead.

The sight of her own funeral pyre nearly caused her to throw up. The anger and words Lance lashed Godcat with echoed with pain. And Matt had passed out from shock and grief, only to send the others away when he woke. Now he guarded a hoard of treasure at the edge of the world, alone.

Abruptly, Natalie found herself staring at the fire in the storyteller's hut, feeling dazed and weak. Her body trembled, her cheeks were covered in tears, and her clothing was damp from sweat. She stiffly brought her right hand up and uncurled her clenched fingers to stare at the tiny pendant that was nearly embedded in her skin from being grasped so tightly.

No wonder Lance had seemed so hesitant to give it to her. It was as a symbol of how dangerous she could be—to herself and others. It was a symbol of a lack of faith, but also a promise of safety. It had been her collar and her freedom. Without it bringing her magic to heel, she could never have traveled with her friends.

"What should you have done differently? What can you do differently this time?"

Natalie slowly raised her head to look at the storyteller who watched her with no judgement or anger. "I should have trusted them... they could have helped me control myself—Matt did help me control myself, once." Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she choked back a sob. "But how can I face them? Lance was right: I can't be trusted. Just look at what I did without even trying; look at what I did to him when I was trying."

The storyteller shook his head with an understanding frown. "Without trying, you single-handedly taught a bitter and ancient creature to love again. And while trying, you saved the world from the terrors of the devourer, Akron."

"And I doomed that same creature to centuries of heartache and misery, and I doomed the world to an endless plague of demons!" Natalie cried. She stared at her hands with disgust and shook her head. "I don't want this power if it can do things like that..."

"It is a great and terrible power, and it comes with equally great and terrible responsibility," the elder agreed in a murmur. "But power without focus is inert. One must choose to do something with power for it to have any effect at all—for good or for ill. Take your friends, Lance and Anna: they use their power to purge demons and rebuild villages and lives. Yet just as easily as they restore—perhaps even more easily—they could raze. The difference lies in their choice."

Natalie's shoulder's slumped a little as she listened, but she didn't look up from her hands.

"Matt has a power even greater than theirs. Yet rather than use it for good or evil, he squanders it. He sits, he sleeps, and he mourns. His power does nothing. That, too, is a choice."

"But back then, I... I didn't choose to lose control, and it happened anyway," Natalie whispered. Her head ducked and she squeezed her eyes shut. "How can I know it won't happen again?"

The storyteller folded his hands in his lap. "You did choose. You chose to let your fear control you. Fear is often irrational, and that irrationality reflected in your magic as an erratic power. Clearly it is not always in control, however. After all, you seem to be doing well now, are you not?"

Natalie's trembling stilled as she considered that. Lance had said something similar more than once. He knew exactly what had gone wrong with her magic—what could go wrong again. It was why he'd returned her pendant, and why he'd so often told her not to fear her magic. Yet he'd also known she was headstrong, even vain, when it came to magic, and would never have listened to his advice. And he had reminded her to consider everything she now knew with regards to when she hadn't known. She'd certainly been afraid in the necropolis, but her magic had never gone haywire. She had refused to panic, and instead channeled her fear into rational thought.

And if she could do it back then with no grasp or control over her magic, then why the hell couldn't she do it now when she knew the proper techniques?

Natalie finally looked up and met the storyteller's calm gaze. "Thank you," she whispered fervently. "Thank you for telling me the story, and thank you for sharing your wisdom."

"It is only as my role dictates. Now, I do believe there are people waiting for you outside. So go, Natalie. Go and use your power for good."

Natalie nodded, wiping her cheeks with her palms. She stiffly stood, her knees protesting moving after so long in the same position, and bowed deeply to the storyteller. He returned the gesture with a nod before shutting his eyes and seeming to meditate.

The late afternoon sun was blinding after so long in the dim hut, and Natalie paused and rapidly blinked against the reflexive tears. It had been several hours since she'd first entered, she realized in surprise. With a deep inhale of the clean air to clear the remainders of the incense from her nose and mind, she turned to face Lance and Anna.

Both were silently watching her with somber expressions. They took in her once-again clear, ocean blue eyes with no flecks of silver, and knew she must have regained the rest of her memories. Her face was certainly pale enough to suggest she'd seen something as harrowing as her own death. Now they could only wait to see what she had to say to them.

"I can see why you didn't want to hear all that," Natalie finally said quietly with a shadow of an attempted smile on her lips. She hesitated, unable to quite meet their eyes for a few moments before squaring her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I- I can't make up for what I've done—to you and everything else. I should have trusted you, back then, but I didn't. I can see why I didn't, but I was still wrong. Things would have turned out much differently if I hadn't run from myself and hidden from you."

Lance shook his head. "We were hardly blameless for everything. I didn't trust you, either, and I wasn't mature enough to handle what was happening in the right way. If we hadn't rushed you off of the isolation of Matt's island, and I hadn't foisted a suppressive amulet on you, then we could have actually dealt with your fears and frustrations. Instead, we barreled off headlong into action, and we reaped the consequences of what we sowed."

Anna nodded her agreement with a miserable frown. "I could have been sympathetic, or I could have been supportive, but instead I blamed you. I blamed you for being angry, I blamed you for being afraid, and I blamed you for how you handled that anger and fear. I'm well aware that I can have a sharp tongue; I just wish I'd had the same grasp of time and place for all words that I do now."

Natalie swallowed against the lump in her throat and stepped forwards to throw her arms around her friends. "I'll do better this time. I promise," she whispered.

"We all will," Lance replied just as quietly as he returned her hug.

When they stood back, Natalie had a determined glare in her eyes. "Let's go pick up Matt. Seven hundred years is plenty of time to mourn. And, really, there's no reason to anymore."

"It might not be that easy to get through to him," Lance cautioned. "He's dangerous, and not at all the same as he was."

Natalie shook her head. "He'll listen to me," she refuted firmly. Her lips curled in a humorless smile. "He wouldn't dare not to."

And so they stopped by Anna's house for a quick meal of fruit and cold sandwiches. It was there that Natalie handed back the amulet Lance had given to her.

"Thank you for giving me the choice, but I don't need it now," she told him. "If I have enough power to change the world for the worse, then I sure as hell better have enough power to change it for the better. And I can't do that if I hide my mana under an amulet, right?"

Lance's smile was a beautiful thing to see as he pocketed the amulet. "I knew you didn't need it, but I'm glad you had it just in case. You ready to talk some sense into Matt?"

"Always. Let's go."

Anna led the way to the warp stone where she took a deep breath. Natalie watched with interest as the the ranger gained an aura of shimmering light, and realized Anna must have been really practicing her magic since the fallout. In the next instant, they were standing on a rocky shore with the sun sinking onto the waves. At their feet, half buried in the stone and hidden under a camouflage net of fake seaweed and driftwood, was a second warp stone.

"Matt destroyed the first several we placed," Anna explained quietly. "Turns out dragons have an eye for shiny stuff, and warp stones are always shiny."

Natalie nodded her understanding before turning her eyes to the looming peak over their heads. "So Matt will be in his dragon form?"

"Just inside the cave," Lance confirmed tensely, scanning the sky for any sign of Matt being out and about. "He's certainly not swooping down to kill us, at any rate."

Natalie's expression darkened with concern, but she said nothing else as she started the hike up the cliff side. Time had changed the path, and weather had further eroded the trail to make it treacherously unstable. Anna led the way, guiding them to safe footing as they climbed ever higher. The very air seemed heavy with tension, and the forest above them was too silent. In fact, the only noises were from the endless crashing of waves against the rocks far below, and the wind moaning through cracks in the cliff.

It was far more depressing now, Natalie thought sadly. Even the mountain above looked different—more jagged and imposing than it used to.

Finally, they reached the edge of the forest on the plateau, and the dark entrance of Matt's den yawned before them. Natalie eyed the opening with a frown, reaching out with her senses—both magical and not—to try and find Matt. He was certainly nearby, but something told her he wasn't in the cave. Something else told her that danger was near. On instinct, she reached out to grip Anna's arm to prevent the ranger from stepping out into the open.

Anna shot Natalie a confused glanced, but stepped back again. She followed Natalie's gaze up above the cavern entrance. Nothing was there that she could see, but she knew Natalie had better night vision, thanks to her dragon blood.

And indeed, Natalie had spied something that caused her breath to stall in her chest. The mountain did indeed look different, and that was because Matt was sleeping on top of it. He was even larger than she remembered, and she belatedly recalled him once explaining that a dragon's form never stopped growing as they aged. He'd added twice again to the mountain's height, and a coating of dust and grit cloaked his gleaming scales so that he looked the same shade as the mountain face. His spine formed a jagged cliff, his wings two more peaks. His tail was curled around the mountain, ending barely ten feet away as a bulge in the earth. His head rested just over the cavern entrance, and easily as large, with a face seemingly carved from stone.

"What's up, Natz?" Lance asked quietly.

"He's _huge_ ," Natalie breathed. "I mean, he was big before, but now... Gods, if I hadn't known he was here, I would never have seen or guessed he was there."

Lance stiffened and raised his eyes the the dark peak of the mountain. While he couldn't see the details like Natalie could, he could tell the mountain was much taller than it should be. Matt had never assumed his largest form since that battle against the dark dragon, and no wonder. There was no way in hell he could fit in the cave at that size.

"Maybe we should wait until dawn," he suggested uneasily. "Anna and I can't see well in the dark like you—and he—can."

Natalie shook her head. "No. If I'm going to get him to listen to me, then now is my best chance. He'll think he's sleeping—dreaming. You and Anna stay back and move downwind so he won't smell you. With any luck, he won't sense you before he notices me." Her grip on her staff tighten and she added softly, "And if he dares to try and attack me, well... he'll get a taste of my magic."

Anna and Lance swallowed their protests, and silently nodded before melting back into the forest. They moved around to a vantage point some distance away where Anna cast a weak night-eye spell. The scene below was blurry and in greyscale, but they could see the small shape of Natalie stepping into the open. A faint echo of her voice reached them, though they couldn't hear her words, and their hearts leapt to their throats as the entire mountain moved, uncurling into the enormous wyrm that was Matt.

Natalie gave her friends ten minutes to relocate before taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She took five steps into the open and crooked her staff in her elbow as she crossed her arms.

"Wake up, Matt," she demanded with far more certainty than she really felt.

A rumble shook the earth, and twin eyes snapped open. The deep, glowing cerulean blues rolled down to fix on her, and the pupils rapidly dilated. Dirt and rocks showered down to expose golden scales as Matt rose to his full height, causing her to have to crane her head to meet his eyes, which she could only manage because he craned his own neck to look down at her with a cold glare. His wings spread wide, making his already awesomely immense form even larger, and he cast a dark shadow over the plateau as his head was silhouetted by the moon so that all she could see were his eyes and the ominous glow of fire behind his fangs.

Eyes that glowed with near-madness, she noted uneasily. It hadn't occurred to her that maybe Matt was no longer sane. But she couldn't give up on him any more than he had been able to give up on her.

Natalie raised her staff and summoned her magic. He was large, yes, but he was still susceptible to gravity, and she watched impassively as his legs buckled under her might, sending him crashing to the ground. Had he been flying, she might have had more trouble, but as it was, his head landed not far from her and she stepped around his nose to meet his glare with one of her own. He needed to see her—really see her—before she would be forced to let her spell go. Gravity magic was one of the most draining, and he was so large that her spell likely wouldn't last more than a few seconds.

But a few seconds were all she needed. She watched his eye widen and the reptilian pupil contract in shock as he finally recognized her. Barely a second later, and she let her magic go with sweat beading her brow. She could see her own reflection in his eye, which was nearly as big as she was tall.

"Can you manage a civilized discussion with me?" Natalie finally asked quietly. She didn't even realize that she'd slipped back into her old speech.

Matt didn't move or speak; he simply stared at her with a gleam of devastated longing and disbelief in his eye. He actually flinched away when she raised a hand to brush the ridge of his brow. Natalie drew her hand back before touching him and bit her lip.

"I've... been gone awhile, I've been told," Natalie whispered. She swallowed when he shuddered at her voice, and tried for a weak smile. "You've gotten... really tall."

Matt shifted, but not in a menacing way. All he did was bring his legs in more comfortably and furled his wings back against his sides. His eye remained fixed on Natalie and seemed to silently beg her to keep talking.

"It took awhile for me to get back to you. I had some trouble on the way," Natalie went on.

She risked settling down on the ground with her legs tucked under her and her staff resting on the ground beside her, never breaking Matt's gaze. The ground was chilly, she distantly noted, but not unbearably cold—or perhaps that was simply her dragon blood warming her.

"I couldn't even remember who I was for a while there. Something must've gone wrong with Godcat's pact, because I reformed at her altar, but way late and not really complete. You know there's an entire forgotten city underneath where Goldenbrick used to be? It's full of treasure... and undead."

And so Natalie quietly talked to Matt for several hours on end. Her throat became dry and tired from use, and a tight feeling persisted in her chest, but she couldn't bear to stop talking. Matt looked as though his very life depended on hearing her voice, though he had yet to make any noise at all, himself.

So she told him about her adventure beneath the earth, of coming out into the sun and being found by Lance and Anna. She talked about how surprised she'd been to meet them and learn about the world again. Her voice nearly broke as she recalled the storyteller and his advice, and the epiphany she'd had. Finally, she apologized for not living up to his hopes and dreams, and for leaving him alone.

Still, Matt said nothing. The sun was rising, bathing them in soft, pink light and glinting off of Matt's scales. But despite the beautiful, serene moment, Natalie felt a deep sadness at Matt's silence.

"Won't you talk to me?" she pleaded in a low voice. Her fingers curled in her lap before she relaxed them and brought one hand up to her heart. "It hurts here, still. I want it to stop, and I think only you can make it stop hurting. Please, Matt."

Matt's wings rustled slightly, but he didn't say anything. To him, he was dreaming, and he never wanted it to end. Never before had one of his dreams of Natalie been so realistic. He could smell her, see her, hear her, and sense her. Almost always, all he could do was see her; the only times he heard her were during nightmares of her screams—of pain... or of anger.

Natalie's shoulders slumped and she finally broke eye contact to duck her head to hide behind her bangs as her hand fell back to her lap. "I understand that I was a horrible person back then. You trusted me and I couldn't give you the same trust. You loved me, and I couldn't give you the same love. You even went so far as to share your blood with me, but I couldn't respond the way I should have. Maybe... Maybe we missed our chance, huh?" A few tears trickled down the bridge of her nose to splash on her hands, and her voice was tight as she asked. "Can I come back and talk to you like this again? It... It helps a little. I'd like to come see you again."

Matt could almost agree with that. He'd like to see her again, too, of course, but he'd rather she never went away. But he could tell the peaceful spell of his dream was ending, and he'd soon wake up. Indeed, Natalie was standing and backing away, despite his longing stare.

A flicker of movement behind her finally had his gaze shifting, and his eyes narrowed slightly on a pair of familiar figures waiting just inside the trees. Lance and Anna knew they weren't welcome here anymore, and they'd dared to come back again, anyway. He'd have to find and destroy their latest teleport stone. Maybe this time they'd finally give up and leave him to his dreams and nightmares. Like the one of...

Natalie... walking away... sharing a hug with them... and breaking into tears...

Matt's eyes widened, and his head shot up. He barely registered Lance's gunblade all but appearing in his hand before falling to the ground.

Natalie wasn't a dream; she wasn't a vision, or an illusion. She was back! How, he didn't know, but he also didn't care. Without even registering his shift, he was dashing across stone on two legs to tackle her to the ground with his arms clamped around her waist. He barely had the presence of mind to be sure to twist their fall so that he'd absorb the impact. Sobs shook his form, and tears poured from his eyes as he clung to Natalie with desperation. She was back, and he was never letting her go again.

Natalie squeaked in surprise and went entirely stiff at the sudden impact and embrace before letting out a grunt as she and Matt hit the ground. She stared at the side of his head and swallowed as it sank in that he must've heard her. He was crying against her neck—horrible, body wracking sobs—and was holding on to her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. Before long, she felt a series of loving kisses fall against her neck, and her expression softened even as a blush rose on her cheeks. The persistent ache in her chest that had only gotten worse the more she remembered, finally began to die down.

"Let me sit up so I can greet you properly?" she asked in a breathless murmur. She nudged his head with her own when he didn't move and added lightly, "Or at least let me breathe?"

Matt started and instantly sat up, hauling her with him, and loosened his grip just enough so that she could take a deep breath. His mouth wobbled as she turned around in his grasp to smile at him, and he swallowed against the fresh wave of tears that threatened to fall. He'd just been about to speak when Natalie tilted her head and leaned up to press a deep kiss to his lips, sending lightning through his veins. With a sigh through his nose, he pressed closer to deepen the kiss and shut his eyes while one of his hands buried in her soft hair.

Lance and Anna stood a few feet away with ecstatic smiles on their faces. Anna had tucked herself against Lance's side with his arm around her waist, and she let out a happy sigh.

"This has been too long in coming," she breathed so that only Lance could hear, not wanting to disturb the reunited couple.

"I thought it would never come," Lance admitted softly. His smile grew a little wider and he shook his head in amazement. "Yet Natz pulls another miracle—two, actually."

Matt heard the two speaking, but he refused to pull away from Natalie long enough to acknowledge them. A burning fire that had gone cold at her death flared to life again, bringing with it old and new dreams and hopes. It took her pulling back to gasp for air to get him to withdraw and realize his own lungs were aching. His eyes remained shut for a few moments as he simply basked in her warmth and scent. Finally, he brought an arm up to wipe the tears from his face and let out a soft laugh before opening his eyes.

"Natalie," he breathed in a reverent voice, saying her name for the first time since she'd died.

The mage shivered at the way he spoke her name like a prayer. Her eyes were wide and flickered with more emotions than she could give name to, and her mouth hung slightly open. She swallowed twice before trusting herself to speak, but wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm back," she whispered lamely. A lump formed in her throat at the dazed smile that spread on his face, and she felt an enormous guilt well up as she choked out, "Matt, I'm so, so sorry. I- I wasn't thinking back then. I was angry, and confused, and afraid, and... And I hurt you. Badly. Will you let me try again? To be better, I mean, not to hurt you, because I don't want to hurt you, and I didn't. Want to hurt you, of course, and-"

Matt pressed two fingers to her lips to cut off her rambling apology and shook his head. "There's nothing to apologize for or forgive, Natalie. You came back to me; that's all I could ever have asked for," he murmured. His voice fell and shifted to a rasping language that startled Natalie to hear, " _Natalie, my beautiful queen._ "

"Your... queen?" she repeated in an uncertain whisper, causing Matt to still and gain a light blush. "What does that mean?"

Matt studied her for a few moments before his expression cleared and he shook his head with a soft smile before standing up and pulling her to her feet as well. "It means you're coming into your blood," he mused more to himself than to her. His expression cooled some as he cast a look at Lance and Anna before shrugging. "Come on, we can talk inside... All of us."

"Still as shiny as ever," Lance commented as they passed Matt's hoard.

"Shinier, since you chucked that stupid rock in here," Matt growled in a disgruntled voice. "Do you know how many gods-damned demons have been here for that blasted jewel?"

Natalie's eyes widened slightly in understanding. "One of the jewels is in here?"

Anna nodded tightly. "Yes. Lance and I decided to hide the Whitefall jewel in Matt's store since he's here at all times, and there couldn't be a finer guard. It was an... interesting effort."

"Interesting is hardly what I would call it," Lance snorted. He shot an unreadable look at Matt's back that Natalie translated as unspeakably angry.

"Um, what happened?" she asked hesitantly, and not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I lured Matt from the cave and distracted him while Lance slipped inside to deposit the jewel."

"What she's not saying is that Matt tried very damn hard to kill the both of us in the process," Lance growled bitterly.

"You should have known better than to come back here," Matt snapped. "Besides, I never actually intended to permanently harm or kill either of you, and it is an insult to imply I don't know what I'm doing. If you both had just stayed the fuck away like I told you to, then nothing would have happened."

"You have a duty, Matt; one you've been shirking off on us for seven centuries," Anna hissed with angry tears in her eyes. "And why? Because you couldn't face the truth like we could, so you holed yourself away like the coward you've become, and gods help any stupid idiot who dared disturb you."

Matt's eyes flashed with rage and his pupils slitted in a way Natalie had never seen before; she uneasily wondered if she had looked like that when she'd fought Lance. But now wasn't the time to dwell on past mistakes—not when Lance's hand rested warningly on his gunblade and Matt looked to be seconds away from attacking. With a deep breath she planted herself between the other three.

"Guys, this isn't the way to handle this," she said firmly with a hint of a plea in her voice.

"Matt doesn't know how to 'handle' anything," Anna growled in reply, earning a low snarl from Matt.

Natalie fixed the ranger with a sharp look. "You told me you wished you'd had the presence of mind back then to know when to not say something. Prove to me right now that you've learned it since."

Anna started and her eyes minutely widened before she took a step back. Natalie nodded with a grateful glance before turning her eyes to Lance.

"You're in Matt's home right now, Lance. Leave the weapon away—you know it won't do you any good other than to antagonize Matt, anyway."

Lance's expression soured, but he nodded stiffly and let his hand relax by his side. Natalie turned her gaze on Matt next.

"They aren't wrong, Matt. You should have helped them over all these years. But!" she raised her voice when Matt opened his mouth to object and spoke over his protest, "I can see why you did. You know better than any of us what it means to be a guardian, and the fact that you chose to ignore the pact anyway speaks volumes of how you felt." Her voice fell some with uncertainty as she held Matt's now-detached eyes. "If you're going to blame them and chase them away, then you have to do the same to me, too. I'm just as guilty as they are for what happened—in fact, I'm even more so. And they're trying to do better by me- by us. They helped me when I needed them and had no firm memories. And instead of trying to wash away what had happened like it had never passed, they helped me regain what I'd lost and rebuild what I'd broken. Let me have the chance to do the same for them, please."

Matt looked unmoved by Lance and Anna's purported actions, but Natalie's plea softened his gaze. Several long moments passed in tense silence before he heaved a sigh. "Fine. They can come on the island: I won't attack them or try to drive them off anymore, I swear it."

"How... generous... of you," Lance replied drolly, causing Natalie to shoot him a warning glare. He took a step back and was followed by Anna. "We'll leave you two here for tonight and tomorrow."

Natalie nodded with a grateful smile, even though a twinge of unease ran through her. Matt was so very different from what she knew, and she wasn't sure she could connect with him as he was now. A tiny, dark part of her mind wondered if she was even safe with him. He'd attacked Lance and Anna, after all, and their crimes had been imagined while hers had been all too real. Then she chased that doubting voice away: this was Matt, and changed or not, he clearly still loved her. He wouldn't hurt her.

And so, with parting hugs to Lance and Anna, Natalie was left in the cave with Matt. She took a deep breath before turning to meet Matt's eyes, only to find him staring at her unblinkingly. With an awkward scuff of her foot, she broke the staring contest to glance at the treasure.

"So, um, where is the jewel? Just sitting in a pile?"

"It's in a crevice over the chamber. Less likely to be spotted there, and fewer creatures can squeeze inside to get their paws on it," Matt replied flatly with a flash of irritation in his eyes at the thought of the magical stone.

Natalie winced and made a mental note to avoid discussing the jewel. "Alright... So, um..."

Matt was still staring at her, and she found herself fidgeting as she cast about for something to say, and all the while thinking it had never been so difficult to talk to him before.

"You called me your queen," she finally reminded. "Is that a title for dragons?"

Matt's lips quirked and he shook his head fondly, though his cheeks heated. "In a sense. A queen is a female dragon—a dragoness. To say you're my queen is..." His voice trailed off before he gathered himself. "It means you're the only one for me. You're the one I'd share my den and hoard with, you're the one I'd fight to keep and protect, and you're the one to share my life with. Dragon's don't mate for life, per say, but there is only ever one partner at a time."

Natalie's cheeks flushed a brilliant red and she felt a distinctly pleased thrum resonate from her heart. "So it's like a... a wife for dragons?"

"Sort of, but on a more possessive level. You can divorce a wife, but only death ends a dragons' bond."

Natalie's mind drifted back to the robe Lance had brought her back _before_ —well over a lifetime ago. Thanks to her recent experiences, she knew that garment had come from the time of the kitten kingdom. And if she were following Matt's explanation correctly...

"So dragons don't have casual lovers?"

Matt laughed at the question and at how red Natalie's face became. "Of course dragons have casual lovers. Where it moves from a fling to a true bond is when a dragon invites their chosen to share their space. Dragons are highly territorial, so to allow another into your den shows you trust them enough to not to attack you for your hoard. It often means romance, but not always."

Natalie's mind raced as different pieces than she'd been seeking fell into place. Lance and Anna had come uninvited, and furthermore, they had admitted to fighting Matt. If that were the case, then it was little wonder Matt had been so aggressive and unwelcoming to them. Grief aside, he'd clearly fallen back on a more instinctual lifestyle, so they had been trespassers and potential threats.

"...Maybe you should get some sleep," Matt suddenly suggested. "You were up for most of the night talking to me, after all. You must be tired."

She was exhausted, but there was no way she could sleep now—not when she'd been reunited with Matt. And she still wanted to know who the woman who'd owned the dress had been, and what she'd meant to Matt. With a deep breath and a mental promise to herself to keep an open and fair mind, she looked up to meet Matt's eyes.

"...Back when I lost control of my mana," she started, only to falter when a look of agonized guilt crossed Matt's face. Luckily, he still prompted her to go on, and she hesitantly continued, "Lance brought me a change of clothes the following day, since mine had been soaked and left on the floor all night."

"Yes...?" Matt slowly asked in a confused voice, unsure of where she was going with this. Inanely, he wondered if she was finally getting her vengeance for stripping her back then.

"He brought me a dress unlike any I'd ever seen before. It was made of something lighter yet stronger than silk, dyed a crimson red with golden embroidery. I can't imagine him being a closet cross-dresser with an exotic taste in clothes, so the garment had to have come from your hoard."

"You want to know who it had belonged to," Matt guessed in a tone that said he wasn't really asking a question.

His expression was entirely neutral—too much so for Natalie to believe he was actually impassive about it. She nodded slowly and glanced away with uneasy embarrassment.

"Looking at it made me realize you'd furnished your room to a woman's tastes, then I found out you had stone steps leading up to your den; they'd worn away to mere bumps, of course, but no stone has ridges that evenly spaced while still remaining so smooth from weathering. And... while I was underground, I- I had some visions. There were these... cat-people in a costal city, and they wore the same kinds of clothing, just maybe not so grand."

"The Cathins," Matt agreed calmly. "They were Godcat's most favored children, and the actual masterminds behind all the ruins and creations from the time of her rule. My lover wasn't a furry, if that's what you're getting at."

Natalie smiled slightly at the joke and shook her head, but went on. Her eyes held Matt's as she quietly revealed, "I thought maybe it was my memories manifesting in a weird way until I got all of them back, but now I'm not so sure. I know you were alive back then, and you appeared in more than one vision, plus the dress Lance brought was the exact same cut and style. One vision involved a young woman: a warrior, I think, with black hair and a golden circlet. You called to her, caught her up and kissed her; you looked... very happy."

"What does it matter? She's long since dead, and at my claws," Matt bit out in a tight voice, clearly not wanting to discuss this matter.

And Natalie nearly let it drop, not wanting to upset him. But a part of her couldn't let the issue go: it had started from a sense of inadequacy back before, then it had spiraled rapidly out of control. But were her peace of mind and effort to be more open with herself and others worth tearing at what was likely an old scar on Matt's soul—maybe even still an open wound? Perhaps she could let this one go and simply accept there were things she just couldn't know or change.

"It doesn't, I suppose," Natalie finally murmured, looking down at her feet. "I just... It's complicated."

Matt's expression softened at the uncertain sadness to Natalie's voice. "What is it, Natalie? You wouldn't bring it up at all if it weren't important to you, I'm sure." He reached out to touch her chin and bring her gaze up, then ran a soft thumb across her cheek. "Does it upset you that I loved other people before I met you?"

"No... Yes... A little... I don't know," Natalie mumbled. "I accept that you've been alive for longer than most creatures can imagine, and it would be ridiculous to think I've been the only one true love of your entire life. I'm a little jealous, I guess, but that wasn't why I was asking."

Matt looped an arm around her slender shoulders to guide her deeper into his den. They wound up on the dusty couch in his library. It was there that Natalie spied the old journal, the start of it all, and she let out a shaky sigh.

"I didn't understand you being a dragon. Once I learned the truth, I thought it was little wonder that you never seemed to show that you might possibly love me, too."

"I never judged you on your blood or species, _my beautiful queen_ ," Matt assured her with a small frown.

Natalie's heart fluttered at the loving title in an exotic tongue, and her cheeks lightly flushed. She looked up to meet his eyes again, and tried to smile reassuringly. "It wasn't that I thought you saw me as lesser or anything, but that I thought you _couldn't_ love me. Sure, you looked like a human—talked and behaved like a human—but you weren't really one. I thought maybe dragons could only... marry, love, mate, whatever... other dragons. Lance had mentioned something about dragon libidos, and that you'd never reacted to any pretty women we saw—myself included, though he didn't say or mean to imply that. I thought I was something that could never hold that kind of place in your heart and life. I didn't understand, and I was too afraid to approach you about it then."

Matt's face fell as he whispered, "That wasn't the case at all. I just... I think my mind had already declared you to be mine, in a way. I had no eyes for anyone else, but I was wary of pursuing you for many reasons—my longevity and history, being two of those reasons. Not that you could have known that, of course. But what does that have to do with the dress?"

Natalie's eyes dropped again, and she clasped her hands in her lap. Her voice was low as she said, "All the signs—the dress, the décor, the steps—added up to me realizing that whomever you'd loved before, they couldn't have been a dragon. Dragons have no need for stairs when they can fly up a cliff, they don't need a bed when they're just as happy to curl up on a pile of gold. And I'd lashed out and hurt you when you were vulnerable, and it made me realize that the reason wasn't that you couldn't love me, but that you simply didn't. And I could see why. I... I've hated myself for a large portion of my life. It was in varying degrees of hatred over the years, but it... My self esteem might as well by classified as nonexistent. I was rejected from my family and society because of my magic, I never seemed to be enough for anyone to truly notice, I could only seem to hurt my closest friends and you, a person I loved, and I couldn't control my magic. I tried to find some small comfort in the idea that it wasn't me that was the problem for us, only to realize you could, and had, loved other women. And everything I tried to do to control my frustration with myself and the world always backfired or blew up in my face."

Matt's heart ached as he listened to the truths that had motivated the events long ago. It had started as something small and manageable, but had rapidly snowballed to disastrous proportions. And the logic she'd worked off of was so painfully easy to follow in hindsight that it was hard to fault her in any way, even as a gentle chide. But she wasn't done speaking just yet, though he could smell the tears in her eyes.

"I thought, maybe this time I can be better," Natalie breathed. "I want to face my problems, worries, and fears head on. I... I want to show you I trust you enough to come to you when I'm upset, and that I don't blame you, but rather believe you can help me find the right of it all. That's why I brought up the dress and the past lover. I want to move past it, to bring that part of my life and those issues to a close. Because that stupid little thing could have been cleared up in less than a day if I'd just talked to you like I should have. I would never have lost control of my magic, I would never have opened the portal to let loose the demons that plague the world now, and I would never have believed my death could fix anything. We could have had these last seven hundred years together, but we didn't because I was too afraid to try and face reality." She looked up once again and searched Matt's glimmering eyes as she asked, "Can you forgive me for being a coward, and will you help me be brave?"

Matt's response was to lean down and press his lips to hers. A low moan rumbled in her throat as he licked his way into her mouth to languidly run his tongue along hers in a passionate kiss. Unknowingly, he was pressing on the back of her head to hold her close, though she certainly didn't mind, nor planned to escape. It wasn't until he pulled away that he responded in words.

"Though I hold it isn't necessary, I forgive you," Matt murmured. He tilted his head slightly as he studied her flushed cheeks with a faint smile and added, "And I would be honored to be your support as you try to strengthen your weaknesses. And I'm sorry as well. I was secretive back then—I still am, now—and being so closed off only made your troubles worse. I promise to be as open as I possibly can, and I'll explain anything I do that doesn't make sense to you. So don't ever be afraid to ask me to stop and help you."

Natalie let out a soft laugh of relief and leaned forwards to rest her forehead against Matt's chest. "Thank you, Matt. I forgive you, too, though I never thought it was your fault."

They stayed there for a few moments before Matt shifted them around to have her tucked against his side. Several minutes passed in content silence, and Natalie had begun to doze off before he let out a quiet sigh.

"Her name was Dyclara," he murmured with his eyes fixed on the shadows on the far side of the room. "She was a half dragon, like you, though not from my blood."

Natalie's eyes opened, but she didn't move beyond resting a hand on his leg in silent comfort and support. His words were distant as he recalled the dead woman.

"Dyclara was a spitfire: always moving, and always getting into trouble. She was the daughter of a house of nobles, towards the end of the cat dynasty. I met her at the shrine to Helsath, acting in my duty as a guardian. She turned away as soon as I told her to—for the first and only time in her life, she later told me. Not that she stayed away, of course. I fascinated her, I think, as a mature dragon well-versed in his gifts and secluded from the world at that point. She'd come back once every sixth-day with some silly little offering: gold, jewels, a shiny pocket watch, a rack of roast lamb... I had no idea why she did it, and for a long time, I didn't care. As long as she stayed outside the cave and didn't try to figure out how to use the altar, or pester me for details, then she could do as she pleased. We talked, I trained her a little, and we'd take brief walks through the woods around the shrine."

"She sounds like she was nice," Natalie murmured softly.

"She was—very nice. Those visits were the only interactions we shared for over a year and a half. I was relatively new to my duty, and disliked leaving my post for any longer than the time it took to hunt a meal, but I started to look forwards to having her visit, craved her company and companionship. I liked teaching her, too, and I saw her as my protégé Then, one week, she didn't arrive. I brushed it off fairly easily the first time: one missed meeting for a one and a half year period was easily forgivable and understandable. The second miss was harder to explain away. By the third miss, I was afraid she'd gotten bored of coming out to see me. After the fourth miss, I left the mountain of Helsath's shrine for the first time and sought her out."

Natalie listened intently as Matt fondly described the woman he'd clearly fallen in love with so long ago—likely his first real love. And surprisingly, she didn't feel an ounce of jealousy or upset to hear him speak so warmly of another woman. Perhaps, she mused as she shifted to get a little more comfortable—perhaps it was because she knew he was hers now, and would remain that way for as long as they lived.

"So where had she been?" she prompted softly when Matt remained silent, lost in thought.

"As it turned out, she'd been betrothed, and her fiancé and their families didn't like that she was forever traipsing off unchecked to meet with a wild beast in the mountains," Matt snorted. He let out a short laugh as he admitted, "I, ah, crashed the wedding reception, and carried off the bride. I was a little... jealous and possessive, I guess you could say."

" _A little?_ "

"Okay, so I was very jealous and possessive. Dyclara thought it was hilarious, and couldn't stop laughing long enough to thank me for saving her from _a life of dull, wifely duties_ , she called them. We basically eloped that day, avoiding her parents' considerable reach and influence. That was when I found this island and decided to claim it for our own, though she didn't get control of her dragon form for well over fifty years, which is why I had the stairs carved, and the acquired bedroom furnishings."

"That's really sweet, actually. Like fairytale sweet," Natalie hummed. "The dragon carries away the maiden to live a life of freedom and love."

Matt laughed and shook his head. "Depends on who was telling the tale. I doubt her parents thought it was so sweet, anyway." He smiled wider and his voice was wistful as he admitted, "But we were happy, free, and very much in love. And we stayed that way for a very long time."

Natalie's smile faded as she braced herself for the coming turn to the worse.

"Dragon's blood is a tricky thing," Matt murmured morosely. "It's powerful, and takes a lot of willpower to control and direct—willpower Dyclara had never needed to have. And the older a person with dragon blood gets, the more powerful the blood becomes and the harder it is to control. She started to have fits of rage—would fly out to pillage and burn. And I, the naïve and lovestruck lizard I was back then, didn't recognize the signs, nor had the guts to stop her when I realized what was wrong. I kept hoping she'd snap back to herself, that she'd return to being the mischievous, stubborn little troublemaker I'd fallen in love with."

"But she didn't, obviously," Natalie gently prodded when Matt trailed off.

"No, she didn't. By this point, the war against Godcat was well underway. Entire cities were sacked and pillage for any and all wealth and objects of power. The lesser guardian deities were captured, ensnared, and forcibly reformed into the jewels used to seal Godcat. People, cats, Cathins, and beasts everywhere were snatching at any opportunities to become stronger more quickly, and Dyclara ended up being no exception. She... she returned to Helsath's shrine, prayed at the altar, and stole some of the god's power; it corrupted her absolutely. By the time I caught up to her over the kitten capital, she was little more than a raving beast, claiming to be the greatest terror the skies had ever seen, and that we should claim our dominion over the world as our birthright demanded.

Matt let out a shuddering sigh, and his voice was brittle as he finished his tale. "Even if I'd wanted to burn the world and rule over the ashes with her, I couldn't. Helsath had ordained Dyclara's death, and as his guardian I was forced to carry it out. It was my growing lax in my guard that had led to the theft, he claimed, and it was only a fitting punishment to lose that which had made me lose sight of my purpose and duty. It was no contest at all. Dyclara was merely a half-dragon with not even a quarter my age or experience. I brought her down and left her to bleed out on the stone streets of the city as Helsath demanded."

Natalie swallowed at the grief in Matt's voice, and pressed a little closer to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was never your fault. There were dozens of things I should have done differently—would do differently, if given a second chance. I could have disciplined Dyclara, I could have curbed her instincts by exerting myself over her as her mate, I could have never left Helsath's shrine in the first place... There were many forks in the road where I chose the wrong path. It was an agonizing lesson to learn, but I would never give the experience back. Dyclara showed me to the world beyond the mountain shrine, she showed me what love could be like... and she showed me that both my actions and inactions can have consequences. The last lesson is the hardest to master, and I still don't have it completely learned, but it gets easier with every choice to look ahead and see the consequences."

Natalie nodded and lifted her hand to study it—and her claws. "Lance says I've begun hoarding," she mumbled nervously as she lowered her hand again. "And you mentioned I was coming into my blood. Will I... Am I going to end up being just another Dyclara?"

"It's highly doubtful," Matt soothed with a rub along her back. "Dyclara was half red dragon, and they were always known for being more bestial and prone to violence than gold dragons. Furthermore, you've trained as a mage, and discipline is something engrained to your very being. Yes, you've had instances where you've lost control, but for the amount of mana you have, it's beyond unusual that you haven't had _more_ trouble controlling yourself. And all that's ever held you in check was your own willpower. Besides, my blood was given freely, and I'm here to help you learn the changes to your body and mind. Dyclara took her blood as a prize for defeating a red dragon, and blood not freely given is naturally much more opposed to being assimilated or controlled."

"Huh. I didn't know that," Natalie said curiously, reassured now that she knew she had a much better chance to remain herself.

"You wouldn't. Blood magic is a very primitive and archaic form of the artes that isn't widely used because it isn't as reliable or practical, and the ethics surrounding it have always been contested."

 **OOOOOO**

Lance couldn't help being distracted by having Matt traveling with them. If the dragon would stick to one form it wouldn't be as much of an issue, but he didn't. With no need to hide, and a world covered in monsters of all kinds, Matt tended to fluidly shift forms to whatever fit his fancy at the time. And he'd do it mid-stride, too. One moment, he'd be keeping pace with them in human form, then he'd shift to being a large dog-sized dragon trotting at their side, then he'd get bored of that and shift to a hawk-size and ride on Natalie's shoulder.

"What does it feel like to shift?" Natalie asked one day as they sat around the fire, munching on some travelers rations.

Matt looked up from his food and shrugged. "Like breathing, to me. I suppose there's rush of energy, but it isn't anything significant."

"Do you think it's something I could do, too?"

"Sure, with some practice. Your form will never be large as mine, though."

* * *

 _ **A/N** : Definitely needs to be its own chapter fic, but I'm too lazy to fill in the missing pieces, yet. :P The advantage I have is I just need to connect parts, for the most part—barring the ending. The irritating part is that it removed my italics, so I've had to go put those in again. A daunting task with 50k+ words. There are probably typos, since the thing is so long, so please let me know what you find._

 _Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, felt feels, etc. Leave me some reviews, and I'll see you all (hopefully) soon!_


	13. Gaea (Rated T)

**Title** : Gaea (tentative)

 **Genre** : Romance, adventure, fantasy, angst

 **Rating** : T

 **Warnings** : Language, complete gibberish, OoC

* * *

"Weird place," Lance commented as he looked about the cavern. His voice echoed about the space making it seem like there were several of him speaking.

The entire chamber was cylindrical, with swirling grooves carved into the walls. Twisting stones of varying sizes spiraled in towards a single, roughly-hewn platform. A crack in the ceiling allowed a beam of sunlight to filter down, square on the platform, and dust motes danced in the light. Ferns grew at the bases of several of the stones, and vines grew out of the swirls on the walls, dangling down.

"I wonder what it was used for," Natalie curiously asked aloud after a few moments. "It's definitely man made, after all."

"A ritual chamber, maybe?" Matt suggested as he peered at one of the rocks. He ran his hand over the surface of the stone and found it to be very smooth as though it had been polished.

"Yeah, probably," Lance agreed. "You get some awesome acoustics in here."

Anna had moved further in to inspect the platform, though she glanced back with a confused expression. "Acoustics? What does that mean?"

Whatever Lance might have said was entirely driven from his mind as all of the stones in the room suddenly lit up with a soft green glow. Each of them jumped in surprise, but the lights went out as quickly as they started. The four stared at the rocks in silence for several minutes until Matt experimentally poked one with the tip of his sword. Aside from a scraping sound of metal on stone, nothing happened.

"What caused that?" the swordsman asked.

Lance shook his head and looked over at Anna, "Did you step on some kind of trigger?"

Anna peered at the dusty ground at her feet for a few moments, but ultimately shook her head. "No, just dirt and rock."

The rocks glowed again and then stopped. Natalie's eyes narrowed at that and she said, "Anna, say something."

"Something?" Anna dumbly repeated in a confused tone. She blinked in surprise when the rocks lit up again. "Huh, they're—what's it called?—voice acclimated?"

"Activated," Lance corrected with a roll of his eyes. He inwardly sighed about how ridiculously uneducated his friends could be. "I wonder why they only respond to you, though?"

"Maybe because she's near the pedestal?" Matt guessed, already moving forwards. "Come on, rocks, glow!"

But nothing happened. Natalie and Lance tried next, but with no luck. A few more attempts proved that the stones only glowed when Anna spoke, but poking around the many stones revealed no reason for why that might be. It wasn't until Anna scaled the wall to get a top-down view on the chamber that they made any progress.

"Hey, the stones are arranged in a sun!" Anna called down from where she clung to a thick vine with her feet propped on a narrow ledge.

"Fascinating. Now get down before you break your neck," Natalie called back in a droll voice with her eyes covered.

Anna rapidly slid down the wall and hit the ground in a crouch, peering up at the skylight. "Must be some kind of worship chamber for the sun. Still no reason why the stones are glowing, though."

"Maybe there's a prayer they're supposed to react to?" Lance wondered aloud as he ran his hands over the center pedestal, brushing away dust and moss. "Hey, something's written here... in another language. Damnit."

Matt was dozing against the wall, having grown bored of the mystery of the glowing rocks, and now waiting for the others to finish up. He picked his head up slightly at Lance's discovery and let out a yawn as he moved to peer down at the words.

"Natz, this is your stuff," he called in a bored voice.

Natalie trotted over and knelt to look at the writing and nodded. "Yeah, this is Old Drylish. Lots of spell books are written in it. Let's see... _Sun's Birth_? Must be the name of the ritual. They've got some of the words here, but they've been worn down pretty far; I can only read a few snippets here and there. _I bring light to your skies and sight to your_... eyes, maybe? That would make sense and rhyme."

Anna beamed brightly, "Hey, I know that one! It's one of Greenwood's historical hymns!"

"A hymn? You mean you have to sing it?" Lance asked as he glanced at the rocks again.

"Yup. Traditionally, you're supposed to make an offering of morning glories, too. Our ancestors thought that was what renewed the sun each spring."

"Well, maybe we can do that here and it'll do something?" Matt suggested. "Those are morning glories up there, right?"

Anna shrugged, "I don't think it'll do anything, but I can do the ritual if you want. Should I sing it in the traditional tongue, or modern language?"

"Do you know the whole thing in Old Drylish?" Natalie asked with a considering frown. "This place is old, so it probably won't recognize the modern tongue."

Anna nodded and soon they had a small woven circlet of morning glories sitting in the center of the chamber. Matt, Lance, and Natalie stood back and watched expectantly as Anna took a deep breath. The air seemed to hum with expectance, and once Anna began singing, the stones glowed and flashed with varying brightness, and a chiming sort of music filled the air. Anna stumbled over her words slightly in surprise at the sound, but quickly recovered. Her eyes were closed in concentration as her voice rose and fell in song, and she didn't seem to notice the wind that had risen to swirl about the chamber, tossing her hair.

Her three friends did, however, and they also noticed the eerie glowing shape suddenly standing before their friend. Matt's hand shot to grip the hilt of Heaven's Gate as Natalie sucked in a sharp breath. The figure had long green hair and pointed ears, and she was dressed in a flowing robe made of a soft green stitched with gold. Golden silk was woven into her hair and strange marks decorated her skin.

"An elf?" Lance muttered as he chanced a step forwards.

"Anna's gone into a trance," Natalie suddenly snapped as she darted past him.

Indeed, the ranger's eyes had opened, but they were glazed and unseeing. A certain vibrancy has vanished from her voice as she sang, causing it to lose the liltingly beautiful quality. The stones were flashing faster and faster until stopping when Natalie shook Anna by the shoulders.

The song abruptly broke off as Anna shuddered and sucked in a sharp breath like she'd had icy water dumped over her head. Her eyes snapped back into focus on Natalie's worried expression before rolling back as she collapsed. Lance barely caught her before her head connected with the stone.

"What the hell?" Matt breathed after several long moments of silence, staring at Anna.

A stranger's voice made all of them jump, and they whirled around with weapons in hand to gape at the ghost of a long-dead elf. The elf stared at them with piercing green eyes, speaking quietly, but the words were strange to Lance and Matt. Even Natalie, who had studied Old Drylish, only understood snippets and pieces.

"A... vault?" Natalie murmured in confusion. "No... a seal? And a promise? Maybe..."

In the next instant, the elf vanished into a shimmering mist that rapidly disappeared, leaving behind only a single new morning glory. Behind the three, Anna let out a low moan and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked in dazed confusion up at the circle of sunlight overhead before it was blocked by three worried faces.

"Wh-What happened?" she mumbled as she pushed herself to sit up with trembling arms.

"You summoned some kind of vision," Natalie quietly explained. Her eyes scanned the chamber with new understanding as she added even more quietly, "This chamber is a memoriam—a place where powerful mages can leave messages that last for centuries. I'd only ever heard of them before..."

"My head hurts," Anna mumbled with a palm on her forehead. "I was... singing? Right?"

"Let's take her outside," Natalie suggested, already standing up. Her eyes were uneasy as she glanced at the flower the vision had left behind. "She's too in-tune to the residual mana here right now."

Matt pulled Anna to her feet and held her steady as she stumbled from a head rush and nearly collapsed back down; she leaned on his shoulder all the way out of the cave. Soon they were seated around a small fire with a small dinner of dried meat, hard tack, and water. Anna still seemed disoriented and kept asking if she'd gone anywhere—to the immense concern of her friends.

"Maybe you should get to sleep," Natalie finally stated in a tone that made it clear she wasn't making a suggestion.

Anna opened her mouth to object, but ultimately slumped and nodded before tossing down her bedroll and crawling inside it. Within just a few moments, she was asleep.

"What's wrong with her?" Lance asked quietly.

Natalie shrugged and shook her head. "It could just be a side effect of the trance, or being snapped out of the trance, or perhaps she saw something we didn't and it's confused her. Magic and its effects are tricky; until she's a little more coherent, we can't really be sure what the problem is."

"But this won't be... permanent... right?" Matt wondered anxiously.

Natalie smiled at him reassuringly, "That's highly unlikely. Mana has a limited lifespan, so to speak, so outside of very specific circumstances, no magical effect will last longer than a week, at most." Her face shadowed slightly as she turned to look at the fire and murmured to herself, "I'm more worried about..."

"About what? That elf chick?" Lance asked.

"Yeah. Elves have been gone for centuries, right? It happened very suddenly, too—practically overnight. Yet that image spoke as if they would be collecting some kind of promised payment, like they were still around. And she was dressed as the texts all say elven sages did."

"So, what, you think the elves are coming back?" Lance scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Humans have been almost everywhere, and we've never seen any pointy-eared flower lovers."

Natalie's lips pursed, but she said nothing more about it. Instead, she moved to pull her bedroll out and suggested, "It might be best to take Anna back to Greenwood tomorrow, if she's still out of sorts."

By noon the next day, the team was crowded in Anna's house—much to Anna's disgruntlement—and making plans to get back together in a week.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Anna muttered mutinously as she endured Natalie's mother-henning to make her some tea and fluff her pillows. "You guys are blowing this way out of proportion."

"You fainted and have been acting really weird after being hit by a magical effect—we're not blowing this out of proportion," Natalie briskly refuted. "Now then, we'll see you in a few days, alright?"

"I'm not staying in this bed the entire time, you know that, right?" Anna asked with an arched brow. "In fact, as soon as you walk out of the village, I'm going hunting."

"Anna, please."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Fine, mom. I'll be good. Pinky swear."

Natalie cracked a faint smile at the sarcastic response and shook her head. "See you later, Anna."

 **OOOOOO**

"What the hell do you mean _Anna's missing_?" Lance demanded furiously.

"Exactly what I said: she left early morning two days ago and never came back. She didn't even wave a goodbye or anything," Sarah snapped back with equal heat. Her eyes were bright with worry as she stared at Sky Feather in her lap. "She never leaves without her bow—never."

Matt exchanged a worried look with Lance before asking, "How was she acting before she walked off? Did she say anything odd—do something strange?"

To neither man's surprise, Sarah nodded. "She was pretty confused at times. It was almost as if she thought she should be seeing something else, or be somewhere else. Not all the time, of course, but often enough that we told her she should probably stay in bed." The younger woman looked up worriedly. "She told me she'd been hit by a spell, which was why you guys had made her stay here for bedrest. Do you know what's wrong with her?"

Lance's lips pursed and his eyes were dark. "No, but I suspect Natalie does. She's been dragging us to old libraries and places like the memoriam—the place Anna was put into a trance—and now she wanted to see Greenwood's records. C'mon, Matt, let's go get her to fess up."

Matt nodded before sparing Sarah a confident grin. "Don't worry: we'll bring Anna back."

Sarah held out Sky Feather with a wobbly smile. "Make sure you give her this when you find her. And tell her she needs to quit making all of us worry so much."

The swordsman nodded, and tucked the weapon away before waving and following Lance outside. The gunner all but stormed across the village to the building where Greenwood kept all their records and important artifacts. Inside, Natalie was bent over a low table with a number of fragile, yellowed scrolls and papers spread out before her.

"Alright, Natz, we've been patient enough. What the hell is wrong with Anna?" Lance demanded furiously. "She's wandered off, and it's been over a week, but she was still in a daze."

Natalie looked up briefly before sitting back with a long sigh and a shake of her head. She waved a tired hand at the scroll she'd been running her fingers over, and both Matt and Lance stepped around to look at it. A complicated diagram sprawled across the paper, comprised of lines and names and dates. Lance frowned and raised his eyes to the flowing title at the top.

" _Families of Greenwood_? You've been looking into Anna's genealogy?"

"What's a genie-pology?" Matt asked in a baffled voice. "Some kind of wish-granting apology creature?"

" _Genealogy_ , and it's the study of family trees and lineages," Natalie corrected tiredly. She nodded to the papers she'd pulled from Greenwood's records and added, "I had my suspicions after the vision Anna summoned and the fact that she knows Old Dyrlish. Adding to that, Greenwood's customs are unique and archaic, but unarguably effective. And on top of _that_ , Anna looked scarily similar to that elf: she has the green hair and eyes, the delicate features, and the powerful nature magic."

Matt still looked confused, but Lance's eyes lightened with understanding.

"You think Anna—maybe all of Greenwood—is descended from elves," the gunner murmured.

Natalie nodded and rubbed her hands over her face with another tired sigh. "Greenwood's records are impeccably accurate and complete, including birth and death dates, marriages and divorces, offspring and their families, prominent features and colorings; I've traced her family line back over a thousand years, and she's descended from a young man and a full-blooded female elf."

Matt frowned skeptically. "A thousand years is a long time. Why would that have any effect on Anna now? I mean, blood doesn't run that strongly."

"It wouldn't, if Greenwood weren't such a secluded culture," Natalie agreed quietly. "And a few elves wandered in and out of the village over the course of a couple hundred years, adding back into the bloodline. It's rather remarkable how pure Anna's blood could potentially be, and with little to no genetic defects from interbreeding. She has at least twenty-seven different elven ancestors, to say nothing of the ones who showed up more than once, and over three hundred half-elven ones, with the most recent one being less than two hundred years ago. It's little wonder her magic is so powerful, even though she's never trained it or focused on it."

"Well, as fascinating as Anna's remarkably pure, if disgustingly inbred, elven blood is, I don't see what it has to do with her predicament now," Lance snorted sarcastically.

Natalie's lips curled in a faint smile. "It has everything to do with it. It's why she was able to activate that memoriam, why she went into that trance, and likely why she's all out of whack now. The image she accidentally summoned was just a messenge, but I'll eat my own staff if she didn't also accidentally summon up the spirit of a dead elf, and it's been trying to possess her."

Lance's eyes widened and Matt's jaw dropped open as they both gasped, " _What_?"

Natalie nodded and pulled a musty tome over and opened it up to where she'd marked a page. "Greenwood has this interesting legend about the second coming of powerful magical creatures with flowing green hair and pointed ears—the ideal progenitors of their village. Sound a lot like elves, don't they? And when I had us visit those old ruins this past week, I was tracking residual mana, and I found that at one point, a long, long time ago, there was a mass displacement spell used. I don't have any accurate readings, of course, because I only used my own senses, but every single place seemed to have a similar dating on the spell—a similar amount of time passed since it was used."

Matt looked more and more lost by the second, but Lance nodded with understanding.

"You're saying the elves jumped ship on this plane of existence using a mass spell, but they wanted to come back some day."

"Exactly! But it can't have been complete, or there wouldn't have been more elves in Greenwood's lineage," Natalie agreed with a hint of scholarly excitement. "I suspect that the spell only hit the largest settlements, and any elves not present when it was cast were left behind. They may have wandered, looking for their kin, and found Greenwood and settled there instead. And mass spell aside, dozens of scholars agree that elves were exceptionally good with magic, and that the elven sages were highly in-tune with the world's mana, to the point of being perfectly clairvoyant. They could easily have looked ahead to a point in time where someone with enough elven blood and mana could let them back through—someone like Anna."

"So, basically, some elf ghost is controlling Anna to make her open some kind of portal to Fairy Elf Land, to let a bunch of elves back into this world," Matt summed up slowly.

"Well, that's putting it very... simply... but yes," Natalie agreed with a grin.

"What will opening this portal do to Anna? Should we stop her?" Lance asked quietly.

Natalie's lips pursed before she shrugged and stood up. "If it's already been seen by the elves as going to happen, then we may not be able to stop her. As for what it will do it her... That depends on the kind of portal they need opened, and what the cost is to open it. We should definitely catch up to her, and hold her... and her ghostly hitchhiker... back from doing anything stupid or rash until we know for sure she'll make it through okay."

 **OOOOOO**

Anna stood in the solitary beam of sunlight, her back to her friends entering, and one hand on the withered trunk. All around the chamber was bare of living plants of any kind, apart from a series of small patches of wilting flowers leading up to and surrounding where the ranger stood motionless.

Matt broke the tense silence, "We finally caught up to you."

Anna didn't turn, though her head tilted up slightly as her fingers trailed up the cracked bark of the tree. The three behind her exchanged uneasy glances at her silence, each considering that perhaps she'd been fully possessed. The ranger stepped part of the way around the tree, her hand grazing the bark. Beneath her feet, patches of flowers blossomed from dry, dead earth, only to wither shortly after she stepped away.

"Anna, or someone else?" Natalie asked quietly, a hint of a challenge on her voice.

" _Ae El'estrya... Dryl vaen etrentira_ ," Anna murmured, her voice echoing softly.

"Not Anna, then," Lance noted uneasily. "What'd she say?"

"A life tree. She's surprised one still stands after so long of the elves being gone," Natalie replied in a low voice.

Anna finally turned her head to regard the three with a hint of interest in her otherwise expressionless face. Deep emerald green eyes glinted with a new ring of gold around the pupils, and a strange light filled them. All three shivered at the inhuman stare from such a familiar face. It was as if Anna had had her existence replaced with a creature so ageless it had seen eternity and no longer found life enthralling.

"You understand _Ae Drylia_ well, for a human," the being mused. Her eyes scanned along Natalie's form, seeming to see straight through her to her deepest secrets. "Perhaps not so unusual. Mages are known for pursuing scholarly interests, and they do adore chasing the secrets of the elves... no matter the cost."

"What do you plan to do with Anna?" Natalie demanded, ignoring the warning in the being's words. "Will opening the portal hurt her?"

Anna's shoulders shrugged with lazy disinterest. "Perhaps. Mortal flesh has never withstood divine mana very well. But she has a certain affinity for life that has made controlling her more difficult than expected, and it may spare her in the end. It matters little. I will be opening the portal regardless."

"Not good enough," Matt shot back. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. "We want a guarantee of her safe and healthy return."

Anna turned fully to regard him with visible contempt. "You cannot scare me with displays of might, boy. I was ancient when your goddess first formed on this world, and I do not toy with my enemies as she might."

Lance stepped up beside Matt. "Good. We don't toy with ours, either."

"Guys, slow down," Natalie warned softly. She raised her voice and said, "Elves came after Godcat's appearance. Are you a precursor to elves?"

Laughter filled the air at the question, sounding at once lighthearted and cruel. "Elves? No, I far predate elves. You know what I am, even if your kind no longer knows me. You stand on my skin and you reap my gifts. By my graces, your lands remain fertile and your beasts plump. I offer bounties of birth and life, and I bear the seeds of your futures."

"Can we just skip to a name?" Lance snorted impatiently. "I don't much care for fancy descriptions of supposed boons."

Anna's eyes flashed as she tilted her head and her eyes shifted to him with cold calculation. "Lancelot, fourth son of House Tenebris. You specialize in military grade weaponry, tactical missiles, high velocity projectiles, lightning, fire, and dark magicks. You spent your youngest years trying to prove yourself just as valuable as your far more successful older siblings, only to end up conquered in a far distant land by people with far inferior technology. Even now, you fear you are not good enough, do you not? Perhaps one day your friends will turn from you just as your family did, leaving you behind to gather the pieces and wander to a new life."

Lance violently flinched at every point the being laid out, his face going pale. "I- I've never- How did you...?"

Natalie stepped between him and Anna. "Don't listen to her. She's trying to break your focus, make you vulnerable to self-doubt." Her eyes held emerald-ringed gold, and she murmured, "You're Ae'Ethrall Gaea, the eternal spirit of the earth, aren't you."

"Mm, and you are Natalie, the last of a bloodline of shrine maidens from the far south whose blood can be traced to the first elves. Smuggled away as a girl during the last purge and delivered to the Circle. What would your family- _your friends_ say if they knew the mutations you've embraced for your magic? It wasn't enough to lose the parts that make you fundamentally human, hm? How sad, to know your bloodline ends with you."

Natalie's mouth tightened, but her eyes didn't waver. "She's an ancient deity, encompassing worships for fertility, longevity, memory, life, and death. Anything any natural object in the world has ever known, she'll know, too: animals, people, plants... even the rocks and earth can serve as her eyes and ears."

Matt rolled his shoulders and settled into a stance. "So she knows all of our tactics, all of our strategies, all of our strengths, and all of our weaknesses." His eyes narrowed as the goddesses eyes settled on him, and he cut her off with a snort. "Yeah, yeah, I'm the bastard son of a whore, spent ten years as a prostitute, always worried about that one mistake that will kill my new family, blah, blah, blah. I'm not impressed, just so you know."

Anna's lips curled in a smile. "Ah, a man with balls, if not a brain. But you are not a man, are you?" That caused Matt to still, and her smile widened as she amended, "Not entirely, at the very least. The blood of dragons runs thick in your veins."

Matt's jaw dropped before he snapped it shut as he pushed the problem aside to handle later as he smirked. "Well, that explains the addiction to gold, I suppose. So are we doing this, or what?"

Anna's expression flickered before creasing with displeasure as she turned away. "...No. I do not hurt those who have served me. Besides, my time manifested is too short to be wasted on worms such as you."

Natalie's eyes narrowed. "Anna," she snapped firmly. The goddess stiffened, and the mage risked a step forwards. "You're still the primary force over your body. Fight her."

 **OOOOOO**

Lance's eyes drifted to where Anna sat staring at nothing, her gaze shattered. A twinge ran through him at the sight before he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "I'll stay with her. It's... it's my fault she's like this, anyway."

Natalie's voice was stern as she crossed her arms, "What happened isn't your fault, Lance. Gaia even said as much before she left."

"Regardless, Anna needs a watcher, and since you're going to be looking into unlocking mana spouts with Matt, then it only makes sense for me to stay behind."

"Matt doesn't have to be with me: the spouts are in holy temples, after all—hardly giant monster dens."

Lance let out a faint snort. "If you think Matt is going to let you traipse around the world with no protection, then you're delusional."

Natalie's eyes glanced at where Matt was gathering branches a short distance away, out of earshot and visibly upset. "He has a slightly... obsessed... if misguided urge to see to my safety," Natalie agreed evenly. She watched the swordsman for a few more moments with wistful longing before shaking her head. "But regardless, he'd be a better fit for staying with Anna."

"What, am I not good enough? You think I'll get bored and leave her on her own?" Lance asked bitterly.

"No, I think you'll hate being stuck in Greenwood for months on end," Natalie corrected sharply. Her voice softened some as she brought her gaze back to Lance. "I know you look after all of us, Lance, but you shouldn't do things that will make you miserable in the process. I promise we're not going to be offended, or chase you off, or whatever else, by you having different tastes in what's cool and fun than the rest of us. If it hasn't happened for six years, then it likely isn't going to happen, ever—not without some kind of drastic negative action on your part."

Lance winced, having almost forgotten that the others now knew his deepest insecurities, and his eyes dropped to his lap. "I have to do this for her, Natz. Even if it really isn't my fault she's... broken... I need to prove to myself that I can fix things... even if just once in my life. And it is my fault. Gaia could have merely cracked Anna, but instead she destroyed her, because I went out of my way to infuriate her."

"I think Anna was doomed to this fate and worse the moment Gaia first entered her."

Matt's voice had them both looking up to see him standing not far away with a bundle of branches in his arms, watching them with a serious and somber gaze that was very unlike him. He set his load down and began arranging the branches to burn for a long time.

"I don't think mortal minds were ever meant to see and understand as much as Anna did when she was possessed," he went on quietly while tucking dead grass between the branches to serve as kindling. "We saw the start of it, when Anna was just confused. We thought that maybe she was seeing just two different lifetimes—her own, and an ancient elf's—but now I wonder if maybe she was already seeing much, much more. How can anyone ever comprehend seeing every past death, every past war, every past act of suffering and cruelty, without snapping? Even seeing nothing but countless acts of kindness and good would drive a person mad."

 **OOOOOO**

It was probably a good thing Anna wasn't really aware, Lance mused bitterly: the whispers and stares from the villagers would set her on edge, drive her into the woods. She'd always hated being the center of attention. His grip on her wrist tightened minutely as he picked up their pace while shooting dark looks at anyone who so much as glanced at them funny. Thankfully, the village was small, and quiet forest surrounded it on all sides; it was easy to escape the discomfort of interacting.

"No wonder you like forests and jungles so much," Lance told Anna as guided her around the tangled roots at the base of an ancient oak. "It's a lot easier to disappear and not have anyone bother you in a forest than in a city, that's for sure."

Anna, as always, said nothing. Lance swallowed his sorrow and kept on the invisible path.

"We're almost there. I found a nice quiet spot by a stream that I thought you'd probably like," he went on quietly. A tight laugh half formed in his throat as he added, "Of course, you've probably already seen it, but still..."

Twenty minutes later saw them sitting on a flat rock dappled with sunlight beside a place where water chuckled across the rocks. Anna perched on the edge of the rock, blankly staring down at the water, somehow both lifeless and confused at the same time. An ignored helping of peeled and sliced apples sat on a napkin beside her, slowly turning brown. On the other side of the apples sat Lance, silently nibbling on a piece of pear, forcing each swallow past the tightness in his throat.

"It's pretty, huh?" he asked with false cheer after several more minutes of silence.

Anna mumbled incoherently, and his shoulders slumped. A rustle in the brush brought his gaze around suspiciously only to see a small, furry animal attracted to the scent of the fruit. It had overly large ears, brown eyes, sleek tan fur with a white belly and a bushy tail with a dark stripe running down it. With no sign from Anna that she was going to eat on her own, Lance tossed a slice to the animal. The creature shied back for a moment before darting forwards to snatch up the food and rapidly devour it. When it finished, it looked up with large eyes, hoping for more.

"Well, you're disgustingly cute," Lance snorted as he tossed a second slice to it.

"What're you even supposed to be? Some kind of bunny...squirrel... fox... thing?"

The animal didn't respond—not that he'd expected it to.

"Foxhare."

Lance shot a foot in the air in shock and jerked to gape at Anna. The ranger's eyes were focused on the small animal now hiding under a patch of ferns, startled by his sudden movement. His heart raced at the acute glint of presence and actual thought in her eyes.

"...A-Anna?"

"They're omnivores: just as happy to eat small rodents as they are to eat fruit. Pretty rare, now, since..." her words trailed off as she hesitated with a confused look on her face as she looked around. "Wh-where...? I was... doing something important... gotta go... do... that..."

Lance caught her hand when she shakily stood, recognizing a lapse into a memory. It was easy to tug her back to sitting down beside him, apples knocked to the ground and forgotten. With an aching heart as she slipped back into staring, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into a tight hug. It was impossible to know if the information about foxhares had actually been Anna's memory or someone else's, but he, perhaps childishly, decided it had been her own. He needed to believe she would recover someday.

A snuffling at his feet had him opening his eyes—when had he even shut them?—and he leaned forwards to see the foxhare had eaten the apples and was now looking for yet more food, despite the rounded belly it had. He nudged it with his toe, trying to get it to leave, but it simply jumped on his boot and clambered up his pant leg like a squirrel. With a roll of his eyes, he gave up and let the animal pilfer what remained of the small picnic.

A few hours later and he was wondering what he'd done so wrong in a previous life. Anna was silent as he led her back to Greenwood, and atop his head was a furry hitchhiker. Attempting to remove it had led to claws digging into his scalp and a protesting mewl. He stoically ignored the giggles and _aww_ 's from the villagers he passed, and shut the door to Anna's home with more force than was really necessary.

"Get off of me, you damned rat," he growled as he shook his head. "I'm not adopting you, so beat it!"

The foxhare obligingly leapt to the floor, only to ignore the open window and begin poking around the small home. With a string of unfavorable mutters, Lance let it go and turned to guide Anna to lie down. The ranger had moved unbidden and was now crouching not far from the foxhare with one hand extended. Her gaze wasn't quite right, but she clearly liked and responded to the small animal. Instantly, Lance's ire vanished, and he began planning ways to accommodate the new houseguest.

By the end of the day, he'd fashioned a bed for the animal out of an old apple crate lined with a soft blanket and padded with a worn pillow, fitted a pet door into the entryway wall, and filled a bowl with water. The foxhare opted to sleep on Anna's stomach instead, and he leaned in the doorway of the ranger's bedroom to watch the pair with baffled warmth.

"Foxhares are symbols of peace," Sarah explained the next morning as she gathered fresh lettuce from her garden. "They're native to Ashwood, but we rarely see them anymore. Hunting turned them flighty, and poaching has done awful things to their numbers. I'm surprised one followed you home at all—much less rode on your head."

"Anna likes it, so I guess it stays as long as it wants," Lance sighed. He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned on one leg. "She actually started explaining what it was to me yesterday, and when we got home, she coaxed it out from under the table."

Sarah's face spread in a warm smile. "That's progress, I suppose. Anna's always liked small animals, despite being a hunter; foxhares are among her favorites. They're loyal creatures, and will hunt down any rodents nearby, so having one bond with her wouldn't be a bad thing."

Lance nodded before standing straight and walking off to retrieve food for breakfast. Anna was sitting up with the foxhare curled in a purring ball in her lap when he returned.

 **OOOOOO**

Lance let out a silent sigh as he carefully rested Anna's shaking body against his side and wrapped an arm securely around her. Close contact was about all that helped her in moments where some awful image plagued her mind—that, and music helped. Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night, so he couldn't dart off to get Sarah to come play the flute for Anna to calm her, and he'd never been skilled with instruments. But Anna's shaking was getting worse and becoming coupled with tiny whimpers that broke his heart to hear.

With a deep breath and a light clearing of his throat, Lance opened his mouth and began to sing a low, wavering song. The words were foreign to Anna's ears, and, likely, anyone else who might have listened in, but they rolled smoothly off his tongue. It felt strange to use the language of his birth, and the accent he'd worked so hard to hide curled along the words, but it wasn't too bad by his estimation. The song wasn't necessarily a happy one, but more of a wistful nostalgic one. Regardless, it did its job, and Anna's shaking died down.

Lance finished the verse before falling silent with Anna resting peacefully against his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and slow, and he let out a long sigh before carefully shifting from underneath her to lay her down. Once she was comfortably settled with a blanket up to her chin, he stood back and simply looked at her.

It was only in that moment, five weeks after taking on caring for her almost entirely alone, that he realized what Natalie had been worried of on his behalf. It hurt more and more every day to see Anna like this and know he was at least somewhat responsible. Oh, he could blame Gaia for possessing her, he could blame fate for setting her on this course, he could blame Anna herself for being so vulnerable, but he didn't blame any of those things. They were too abstract, too intangible, to be a focus for his blame and his sorrow. But his failings and shortcomings in saving her, his inability to trigger any kind of progress in her recovery, his struggles to do the things around her village and home that he was certain she'd been able to do with ease? There was a target for those: himself.

"Natalie was right," he mumbled to himself as he sank into the chair beside Anna's bed and buried his face in his hands. "I must be some kind of masochist to have wanted to be here and to still want to be here."

But he couldn't leave Anna now. There had to be something of her still in there, somewhere. She reacted to certain things—familiar things. Music, the tastes of her favorite foods, the feel of a bow in her hands: each of those things triggered responses from her, but none of them were enough to get her to return to sanity, to get her to look less like a shattered shell of a human being. A stillness here and a motion there couldn't be all that remained of his friend and her passions.

Singing to Anna became a normal part of Lance's nights. It was something he'd latched onto that he could do for her that helped. Beyond that, he threw himself into learning Greenwood's customs and chores. These were Anna's people: perhaps by becoming as close to being one of them as he could, he would find the key to bringing Anna back, or at least enough of her that she could really live again.

To his relief, none of the villagers questioned too far into his sudden interest in how they hunted, or his offers to help with planting, or lessons in how to select trees to fall and chop up for fire wood and building. They showed him the near-invisible signs of a prey's passing, how to lay snares, and efficiently skin kills for the pelts; how deep to plant different seeds, and identify sprouts versus weeds; how to weave baskets, blankets, and carpets; the differences in plants used for dyes, and those used for eating and healing. Anna was always a nearby sight wherever Lance was in the village, only separate from him when he joined hunts every third day.

Rumors began to circulate about what his relationship had been with Anna that he'd become so dedicated to her recovery and to filling her shoes in the village. Had they been lovers? Had Anna absconded with him? Was he planning on becoming a member of Greenwood? When asked, Lance would snort and deny the claims, stating that Anna had a freaky relationship with her bow, and that it only had room for one, before changing topics to a new skill to learn.

"So you don't love her, but you live with her, care for her, and have a one track mind for her health," Sarah summed up sarcastically one afternoon as she and Lance sat in the shade of the younger woman's house, shelling beans for storage. "I'm starting to think maybe you have no idea what love is, if you think what you're doing isn't a display of love."

Lance grunted noncommittally.

"I mean, you've never been one to care about this culture before. Sure, maybe you could explain it away as wanting to make it up to Anna for not saving her in time, but-"

Lance's hand tightened on his shelling knife before he dropped it with a swear when he slipped and the blade cut into his palm. With a frustrated growl, he dug a bandage from his adventure pouch and roughly tied it around his hand to staunch the flow of blood, using his other hand and his teeth. The white bandage rapidly stained red, but Lance only stared at it with dull eyes and tears in the corners.

Sarah _tsked_ and stood up to vanish inside her house for her flute, returning to heal the wound. Lance didn't move at all from where she'd left him, nor after she healed his hand and unwrapped the wound. With a shake of her head, the young woman clasped his now-healed hand in both of her own and ducked down to meet his eyes.

"She doesn't blame you," Sarah stated firmly. "She doesn't blame you, and nor does anyone else in the village. So quit punishing yourself, alright?"

"You _should_ blame me," Lance whispered bitterly. His eyes drifted to where Anna had been left leaning against a tree, her legs tucked under her, and her eyes fixed on the grass. "I killed her."

Sarah slapped him across the face, and he actually recoiled before gaping at her with a stinging mark on his cheek. The woman's pale green eyes sparked with frustration as she snapped, "Did you possess Anna? Well?"

"No, but-"

"Did you slam her into a wall to make her go silly in the head?"

"No, and that isn't even what-"

Sarah swept on, cutting off his every protest, "How about holding her mind hostage? Are you doing that?"

"Of course not! What I meant was-"

"I know what you meant, Lance, and I'm telling you you're wrong," Sarah cut in sharply. "What happened is tragic, and Anna may never recover from it, but you had no control over what happened to her. And if you want her to get better, or at the very least honor her memory, then you need to quit moping about and blaming yourself for events beyond your control. And you need to quit acting like all hope is already lost for her. Matt and Natalie are doing their damnedest to help Anna, and you are too, in your own way. So buck up and quit sulking. You look pathetic while you do it, anyway."

Lance stared at Sarah in shocked silence for a long time, just until she started fidgeting uncomfortably and he pulled his gaze away and to his lap. Her argument had been a little all over the place, and far more bullheaded than he'd ever seen of her, but he felt a tiny voice pipe up to say she had a point. Anna wasn't six feet under, yet, so why was he already giving up? Matt and Natalie hadn't, after all. Somewhere, probably across the ocean, they were working diligently to open the paths required to allow elves back into the world, and with the elves, hopefully also highly-skilled healers.

"...You're right, I am being pathetic."

Sarah smiled brightly, not needing to hear him say he would try harder to know he was planning to. "Good. Now let's finish this so you can head on over to Jeff's for your woodworking lessons." At his incredulous glance, she smiled wider and tilted her head, "You didn't think you could just abruptly drop all the tasks you've taken over, did you? Besides, some light distractions will do you some good. Something tells me you're prone to brooding."

That evening, as he plucked splinters from his hands, Maple crept inside for the first time in weeks. Lance smiled at the foxhare and moved to set out some leftover bread, meat, and fruit for it. It seemed fitting that the creature had returned as soon as he'd gotten his head back on straight.

 **OOOOOO**

There were good days.

Good days entailed Anna actually holding some short conversations before her shattered mental state crept back in, breaking up discussions and convincing her she was someplace else entirely. She seemed almost normal during those times, and it was clear she cherished them nearly as much as Lance did. They were entirely inseparable when she was lucid, typically joined by Maple the foxhare riding one of their shoulders or darting around their feet.

Anna would show Lance all her little tricks for baking and carving, eager to teach him and to share a part of her life she'd never shared with her friends before. In turn, every time she returned to herself, Lance would regale her with anecdotes of his struggles to understand and become a member of her village. Little wooden carvings decorated her home, steadily becoming more and more like the models he was trying to fashion them after, rather than the strange lumps of wood he vehemently swore were birds.

It was still so weird to Anna, to see Lance carrying a bow around sometimes instead of his gunblade, or to see him bent over a field with a hoe—even after months of seeing him like that. He weathered her teasing with surprising grace, clearly too relieved to have her somewhat back to normal to be upset by the prodding. Sometimes, she'd laugh at something he'd say or do, and he'd freeze and just gape at her, like he was stunned by the noise; it hurt when she finally realized that he half believed he was dreaming her talking to him.

Neither one of them spoke of the inevitable slip back into madness that would soon come—not until late in the evenings when Anna could feel the memories that weren't really her own begin to creep back in, no matter how hard she tried to block them out. Lance would be subdued as she asked him to repeat whatever it was she'd missed when her vision faded into ancient battles and distant lands with unfamiliar people—people she'd never met, but knew the names and lives of. Sometimes, he'd ask her to repeat herself, quietly mentioning that she'd slipped into some foreign language, and spoken words she couldn't remember, much less repeat, when she was herself.

Every time she began to become lost, she'd fall all but silent, simply watching Lance with a desperate fear, always wondering if maybe this would be the last time she actually saw and spoke with him. What if she never surfaced from the madness this time? The bouts of insanity came and went at irregular intervals and for irregular lengths of time, sometimes lasting hours, and sometimes stretching on for weeks, while the lucidity only ever lasted for two days at a time, at most.

The fear would make her cry, and Lance would choke up as he promised he'd still be there, and she would definitely see him again. He'd joke about how she'd better not say his next basket looked more like a squirrel's nest, or that he'd have a perfect animal carved. Neither of those things had happened, yet, but he was certainly improving. Anna began to dread the hugs he offered at those times—hugs meant to comfort her when they both knew her time was almost up. Yet despite what they symbolized for her sanity, they were so warm and gentle that she craved them. Her last thought was usually that she wished he'd hug her more when she could properly enjoy it.

Those were good days: days where she could actually be herself and enjoy life, if only for a brief time.

And then, there were bad days.

Some days, she'd cry nonstop for hours on end, and even singing couldn't soothe her; Lance usually resorted to drugging her, to hopefully offer her some dreamless sleep to escape the agonizing thoughts. Other days, she was as still and silent as the grave, and even Maple purring in her lap triggered no response. The foxhare usually vanished shortly after those periods began—like she knew the woman wasn't really the ranger she'd bonded to.

The worst days for Lance, were the days when Anna became someone else. Sometimes she spoke languages he'd never heard before, sometimes she spoke her native tongue, and sometimes she spoke his own native tongue. No matter what language, she had the wrong memories, and the wrong personality. It could be hard to convince her to stay inside those days, for fear of her getting hurt if she got out into Ashwood. Sometimes, she even attacked him, and he had no choice but to subdue her by force before she figured out how to work her mana.

Sarah only questioned the bruises he'd brought her to heal once, and had promised she understood. Each time, she comforted his guilt for having to attack his own friend to keep her safe; eventually, she began tutoring him in how to use healing magic so that he could assuage his own guilt by healing the marks he unwillingly made. Sarah, Lance had discovered, was some sort of benevolent goddess in disguise as an opinionated, if somewhat lazy, young woman. He inwardly thought he'd be rather smitten with her, if she weren't nearly seven years younger than him, and if Anna being in such bad shape weren't the catalyst for their interactions. As it was, however, she was an amazing friend, and he could see why Anna thought so highly of her.

Luckily for both Lance and Anna, it had been a good day when a sharp knock came to the door. Anna gestured for Lance to stay sitting and fletching arrows, and moved to answer the door. Still, the gunner leaned over to see who had come calling, and his eyes widened at the sight of Matt and Natalie.

Both the visitors were too busy staring at Anna with dropped jaws to say hello, and Anna was too busy opening and closing her mouth in a sudden loss of words to welcome them inside.

"A-Anna?" Matt finally gasped. "You're... better?"

Lance set his tools aside and stood up when the silence stretched on for a little too long. He nodded a greeting to his other friends as he rested a hand on Anna's shoulder. "No, not really. She has her good days and her bad days," he admitted bluntly. He squeezed Anna's shoulder reassuringly when she flinched, and added, "Today would be a good day. Come on in."

Natalie and Matt shuffled past the other two and toed their boots off, looking around the ranger's house to try and keep from staring at her. Anna, in turn, fled to the kitchen to hide for a little while under the guise of getting refreshments. As she sliced fruits and poured water, she listened in on the quiet conversation going on in the other room.

"I'm floored, Lance," Natalie murmured. "I never thought she'd be lucid again—not even for brief periods of time. When did it start?"

"About three months ago," Lance replied just as quietly. "She's fine for a day or two, but the madness always comes back."

Anna flinched in the kitchen, and quietly set her knife aside. It hurt to hear the truth out loud.

"And how have you been holding up?" Matt asked in a serious tone. "We tried to send word about what's been going on, but I'll guess you never received it. Natz isn't so great at teleportation or scrying magic, yet."

"Better now than this time last year," Lance snorted. "I've got a better support network here now, so it's not as bad... handling things. Sarah's been a huge help. I probably couldn't be doing this without her."

Anna had just been about to lift the tray to rejoin the others, but her grip faltered and she let her hands drop back to her sides at Lance's words. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd been an immense burden on him—likely on the entire village. Granted, she'd known he had to have been caring for her, but his tone made it sound like things had been more difficult than he'd ever let on. She wondered why he'd never mentioned it to her.

"Hm... We'll get the details later, I guess," Natalie sighed, clearly picking up what Anna was: that things had actually been worse than they seemed. "Is Anna hunting again?"

Lance let out a bark of laughter, and Anna assumed Natalie must have gestured at the arrows he was making.

"No, these are actually mine. Greenwood doesn't like me using a gun on the game—worried about lead poisoning, I think, plus it's against their culture to hunt with objects not fashioned from stuff found in nature. I've got a long bow in the other room, but I can't summon arrows like the villagers can, so I have to carry my own. Anna's been teaching me how to do make arrows myself so I can stop pestering James for them."

"Never thought you'd take up a bow," Matt laughed.

"Mm," Lance hummed noncommittally before he raised his voice. "Anna? You okay in there?"

"Y-Yes! I've just gotta..." Anna trailed off as her eyes darted about for some excuse for why she hadn't returned, yet. "...I'm just washing the cutting board and knife."

Familiar footsteps had her shoulders tensing, and sure enough, Lance appeared in her peripheral. She refused to look up at his worried eyes.

"Why don't you go talk with the others? I'll take care of this," Lance suggested after a few moments. He caught her hand when she turned to grab the tray of food, and lowered his voice so that only she would hear. "They aren't going to be upset with you, you know that, right? They know what's up, so don't worry if you start lapsing. I'll be right in, alright?"

Anna swallowed against the lump in her throat at the reminder, and bit back her questions of whether he was upset with her. Instead, she ducked her head a little and picked up the snacks and stepped out to face her friends.

Matt and Natalie both looked up at her entrance and smiled widely. She tried for a shaky grin back as she set the food down, and hoped they wouldn't comment on the trembling in her hands. Matt immediately reached for the food, followed closely by Natalie, though the mage held Anna's eyes for a brief moment, silently asking some question Anna didn't understand.

"Greenwoof 'as fe besf fruifh," Matt mumbled contently around a mouthful of pear.

The familiar sight of Natalie scolding him for talking with his mouth full helped ease Anna's nerves some. "Lance told me you've been traveling to distant temples?" she mentioned uncertainly.

"We have three more to hit, but our next ship doesn't leave until next week," Natalie explained. She shrugged with a smile as she admitted, "We figured we'd stay in Greenwood, see how you and Lance have been doing. We... didn't expect you'd actually be able to talk with us, though."

Anna's eyes dropped. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Matt demanded, though with a grin. He nodded confidently and popped a slice of apple in his mouth before he added, "It's a great thing to have you getting better. I'm sure you'll be perfectly back to normal in no time at all!"

"I hope so. I'd like to stop worrying Lance so much," Anna whispered.

"Don't worry about me, just focus on healing," Lance gently chided as he tossed himself to sit down beside her. "I'm doing just fine, alright?"

Anna didn't reply. The four sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Matt began talking about the temples he and Natalie had visited, the prayers they'd performed, and the adventures they'd had on the road. Lance talked about the things he'd been learning and doing in the village, and the things Anna had been teaching him. At some point, Maple slipped inside and made a beeline straight for Anna's lap, and Anna relaxed significantly as she began running her fingers through the animal's soft brown fur.

It was hard to hear about all the new things her friends were learning and doing while she'd been stagnating on the brinks of madness—progress for her was getting back to where she used to be. For a few moments, her breath caught as the warm light of her living room faded and she found herself on the wall of a windswept castle.

"...What is that?" Natalie suddenly asked, breaking the vision, and causing Anna to look up in surprise when she realized she was being addressed.

For a few moments, the ranger simply gaped at her friend, and in the corner of her vision, she saw Lance's eyes softened in understanding. She wanted to be angry at how unfair it was that all of her closest friends were here, and she couldn't even keep her mind in one piece for more than an hour.

"That's Maple," Lance finally answered for her. "She's a-"

"Foxhare," Anna blurted out. She flushed at the stares Matt and Natalie turned on her, and stumbled on. "A foxhare. They're a kind of canid that lives in Ashwood. We, um, used to keep them as pets, but then poachers killed and trapped so many of them that they turned really shy."

"Not this one, apparently," Matt noted with a smile as the foxhare jumped across to Lance's lap to clamber up his chest and twine around his neck while purring. "I've never seen anything get that close to Lance—much less be happy about it."

"Har, har," Lance grumbled as he tried half-heartedly to shrug Maple off. "...Stupid beast."

Anna was smiling slightly as she said, "Lance fed Maple some apples in the woods and she followed him home. Now she pops in and out as she pleases, and declares herself queen when she's around."

Maple mewled as if in agreement as she seated herself on Lance's head to begin cleaning a paw. Her throne looked resigned as he heaved a sigh.

For the next couple of days, Anna's house was crowded, but there was a fierce familiarity and joy among all of them at being reunited after so long. Even Anna quickly got over her misgivings about how much of a burden she was, and things were upbeat and cheerful, until the beginning of the next slide.

Matt and Natalie had long since fallen asleep in their bedrolls in the sitting room, but Lance sat up with Anna in her room with only the light of the moon outside to see by. Anna half-heartedly beat her forehead on Lance's chest while whimpering about how unfair it was. Why couldn't she just recover already? Clearly her brain could function part of the time, so why did she always relapse? Lance had no answers for her.

"I'm tired of this," Anna mumbled. She let out a snort as she added, "Preaching to the choir there, I suppose. At least I don't remember being crazy..."

Lance shut his eyes and rested his cheek against the crown of her head. "...No, you don't, and I'm glad for that. Don't worry, Anna, this will end someday. I mean, look at this stretch: you lasted nearly four days this time. That's almost twice as long as the last longest."

Anna turned her head to the side to stare out the window at the moon. "But I always break again... How many times can I break before I stay broken?"

"Don't talk like that," Lance bit out in a tight voice.

"But at least then I suppose you finally wouldn't have to deal with me," Anna went on in a horribly false-cheerful tone. She felt his grip tighten around her, but passed it off as revealing the truth. "You could go with Matt and Natalie when they leave, you know? It's been over a year now; I can't ask you to stay for longer than that. You have a life to live, after all."

"You must already be crazy if you think I would be happy with losing you to this madness," Lance growled. He pushed her back to grip her by the shoulders and held her eyes with his own eyes practically glowing in the dark. "I'm not leaving you behind, you hear me? You don't have to ask me to stay, because I've already decided to. So quit talking crazy when you aren't actually crazy, damnit."

Anna's eyes darkened as she met his furiously protective glare. "You never told me I've been hurting you just by being there. Why the hell are you still here if it hurts so much just to look at me?"

Lance's expression seemed to settle some as Anna posed the question he'd asked himself a hundred-thousand times, and had yet to answer. There was no logical reason for why he stayed with her. Sarah and the rest of Greenwood were more than capable of caring for Anna—especially since she had periods of lucidity that were getting longer and more frequent. He'd long since reached the conclusion that what had happened to her hadn't been his fault—not really. He really missed traveling and using his weaponry to combat powerful monsters.

So why did he stay?

It was ridiculous, but the only things he could come up with seemed inconsequential. He'd miss chewing out Maple for snatching fruit from the fruit bowl, or fresh cookies from a sheet, only to forgive the blasted creature five minutes later when she returned, looking pathetic, and with a flower in her mouth as an apology. He'd miss the smell of dew on the fields in the morning. He'd miss long hunts in the woods. He'd miss having the opportunities to create things with his own two hands—things that weren't used solely for slaughter and mayhem.

And he'd miss Anna. A lot. Yes, it hurt when she looked at him without recognizing or remembering him, and it hurt to have to take her down when she turned violent, and there was still some lingering guilt over her state. But he remembered dozens of moments when she'd placed her fingers over his own to guide him while he crafted or cooked, or when she'd praised him for a job well done, or joined him for strolls in the woods. And he adored her smiles of amusement and cheer when he messed up spectacularly, or came to show her his latest carving. Even when she wasn't really there, there were moments he enjoyed: the feeling of her resting against him so trustingly as he soothed her anxiety attacks, and the way she sometimes swayed to him singing.

Those reasons were better, but convincing enough to serve as his reasons for staying despite the agony it caused? ...Did he even really need a reason to stay by her?

It didn't matter anymore. Anna's gaze had cracked and she was lost again. Lance swallowed heavily as he guided her to lie down and tucked her in. He brushed the stray tears on her cheeks off with a tender hand and whispered that he'd see her soon as he stepped out. With a heavy sigh, he shut her door and leaned his forehead against the wood.

"She's gone again?"

Lance didn't even twitch at Natalie's voice. "Yeah, for now. Don't be surprised if she starts talking in some weird language tomorrow, or asks for people you've never heard of."

Natalie's lips pursed as she absorbed that information and took in Lance's defeated posture. "Well, I doubt you'll be sleeping any time soon, so why don't you come tell me and Matt about how things have really been?"

The gunner remained where he was for several long moments before standing straight. He silently followed Natalie to where Matt was sitting up on the couch with a glass of water in hand. It should have been a surprise that both of them were still up when he'd been fairly certain they'd fallen asleep for the night, but it wasn't. He was too tired of it all to be surprised.

"So, Lance, how are you really holding up?" Matt asked in a concerned voice as soon as they were all seated.

"Better, honestly. Sarah smacked me some time back, and basically chewed me out for sulking and blaming myself. I wasn't lying that I have a support network here, now; I've been told I might as well be one of them. Anna's still... messed up... of course, but it helps a lot that she has moments where she's more or less okay, now."

Natalie nodded, accepting his answer and honesty. "We noticed she gets... distracted, sometimes. What's that about?"

Lance shrugged and ran a tired hand over his face. "Even on good days, she'll slip a little—start seeing past events and people, sometimes ask questions like she's someone else. The difference between those times and when she has long stretches of being trapped in her head, is that she'll sometimes remember what she saw, and not what was actually happening around her. When she relapses completely, it's like she's gone comatose for all she reacts to people and things; thankfully, she also doesn't remember what she's seeing."

"How independent is she when she's relapsed?" Natalie asked with a frown.

"Enough that I don't have to change her clothes and she'll eat on her own, but only as long as she's presented with the items she needs, though the women in the village bathe her since we can't trust she won't accidentally drown herself. She typically doesn't talk, and she won't move around without being guided. There are exceptions, of course: Maple tends to spark a reaction from her, but the damn beast likes to vanish for several days when Anna slips. Other than that, she'll sometimes sway to music," Lance explained in a detached, almost clinical voice. His eyes darkened as he leaned to rest his forearms on his knees. "Then there are times where she's stuck living someone else's memories. She'll do anything from panicking, to sobbing, to attacking people. The former two can sometimes be helped with music, but more often than not, we force feed her a sleeping draught; the latter almost always requires forcibly knocking her out."

Matt and Natalie both frowned at that and the way Lance's face seemed to tighten.

"How often has that happened? Needing to knock her out by force?" Matt asked after a few moments.

"Once or twice a relapse, usually. There isn't any safer way to handle her when she gets like that. Greenwood has a lot of passive mana that's really easy to tap into, and it's all from her element—we can't risk her going bonkers with her magic."

Natalie blew out a sigh and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Lance feigned nonchalance and shrugged. "Still, she's been improving. The relapses aren't usually so long now, while the periods of sanity are longer." He gestured at the pair seated across from him and briskly changed the topic. "Which way are you two headed now? Can't be too much longer until you head out, after all."

"Tomorrow evening, actually," Natalie agreed slowly, clearly not quite ready to leave the topic of Lance's condition watching over Anna. "We need to talk to you about that, too, though."

"We're heading east by ship from Goldenbrick," Matt explained with a serious look when Lance arched a brow. "The next temple is in Ralthis—the grand temple, we were told, is currently being cared for by House Tenebris."

Lance's eyes widened before his expression went blank. "I see."

"Any info you can give us? People to talk to or avoid, landscape, political climate, and so on?" Natalie pressed uncertainly.

"I can do you one better," Lance snorted as he heaved himself to his feet. "I'll write you guys a letter of recommendation and passage. Show it to my parents and they should supply you with whatever information or access you'll need. Assuming you catch them on a good day, of course."

Matt and Natalie exchanged a look as Lance settled down at the table and dug out a pen and a piece of parchment along with an obsidian seal and a block of wax. Soft scratching filled the air for a few minutes as Lance scrawled a lengthy message on the paper before signing the bottom. A little fire magic melted a blob of wax onto the paper that he pressed the seal into. While the wax cooled, he deftly fashioned an envelope that he tucked the letter into and sealed shut with another wax seal before handing the envelope to Matt.

"The seal alone will get you past all the guards up to the castle," Lance instructed tonelessly as Matt and Natalie inspected his seal—a dragon's gaping jaws. "Once at the castle, request an audience with Leila and Johnathan Tenebris. If they seem reluctant, tell them... tell them that Lancelot Tenebris vouches for you and owes you a debt of life, and to refuse aid means a personal slight. They may request a favor in return. It won't be something small, but it will be a doable task. Complete the task and they'll be honor-bound to provide anything within reason that you ask for: information, connections, shelter, supplies, and so on."

"Thanks, Lance," Matt murmured as he tucked the letter into his adventure pouch. "I know you'd rather not have contact with your family at all. I don't know why you don't want contact with them, but it means a lot that you'll do this for us—for Anna."

Lance shrugged again. "It's a small thing. They'll know I'm alive, but not where I am. I'd, ah, prefer to keep it that way, if at all possible."

 **OOOOOO**

Anna woke and immediately was relieved that she was herself. It was morning, the birds were chirping outside her window, and a cool breeze was wafting the curtains. Early, she decided as she sat up and blearily peered at the grey dawn light, but not too early to be up. One hand rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she slid her legs around to stand up, already planning on getting up to tug on her robe and surprise Lance that she was back.

Then her expression fell as she remembered that he might not be there, anymore. She'd told him it would be fine if he left to join Matt and Natalie, and he hadn't had any reason not to, she recalled.

Suddenly, getting up didn't sound like such a fun idea. She wouldn't be allowed to hunt or work the fields, everyone would be too busy to talk with her, and she'd been getting a lot of overly-bright-and-obviously-fake smiles ever since she'd begun to recover. Her people were weirded out by her condition, she knew; only Lance and Sarah treated her mostly normally.

"Just Sarah, now, I suppose," Anna mumbled to herself as she laid back down, curled in a ball on her side.

The light outside her window grew progressively brighter, but she felt no urge to get up, even if just to eat. Who knew how many days had gone by this time? Was it even still summer, or had it moved to autumn? Was the harvest in, or just being begun? The door to her room opened, but she didn't roll over to greet whichever villager was supposed to be caring for her. A quiet sigh sounded and footsteps padded to the chair by her bedside followed by the soft clink of plates being set down. Silence reigned for several long minutes.

"This would be day thirty-five. When are you going to come back?" Lance asked in a tired, mournful voice. He clearly didn't see Anna stiffen, because he kept talking in that same, quietly miserable way, "I'm sorry. I do want you here, you know? And I want to be here; I didn't mean to make you think you should stay gone. Or maybe you sense me here and want me to leave, and you won't wake up until I do? I've never been able to tell how aware you actually are like this..."

Anna's eyes had gone wide and tears silently ran down the bridge of her nose. Lance had stayed for her, despite being told he could leave. He'd stayed and waited for her sanity to come back again, even when it had seemed hopeless. Thirty-five days was longer than she'd been out for quite some time.

"I'm here, Lance," she mumbled without turning around. He fell silent behind her, and she swallowed before adding, "Thanks for being here, too."

A hesitant hand on her shoulder had her holding her breath. She didn't fight the hand when Lance turned her over to try and meet her eyes, but she did look away. A soft laugh of relief had her swallowing just before she was pulled upright into a tight hug and a deep kiss.

Anna stiffened as she gaped at Lance's closed eyes barely an inch from her own. Her face flushed a beet red and her lips tingled where they touched his. What she could see of his expression was blissful, and her eyes softened slightly. Slowly, her body lost its stiffness in favor of melting into his hold and returning the kiss.

It was sudden, beyond strange, and felt a little weird to do, but she doubted that the flash of heat that ran through her was a bad thing. Yet barely two seconds after she began to hesitantly return the affection, Lance jerked back with a sharp inhale and a mortified expression. Anna had just opened her mouth to say something—though she wasn't sure what—when Lance bolted from the room, spewing a million and one overlapping excuses and apologies.

She was tempted to be amused, even as she heard her front door slam. Mostly, however, she felt embarrassed. Her first kiss, and it had been stolen, right along with her breath, by Lance, of all people. And all she could do was stare after him wide-eyed and run her tongue across her lips while her mind raced.

Had it been romantic, like her racing heart was hoping? Or had it simply been relief and happiness that had prompted him to greet her that way? The latter seemed more likely, given his reaction once his mind had caught up. Her heart and dazed smile fell somewhat at the thought. Her expression fell even more when she figured her shattered mental state was a huge detriment to anybody; if it could make _Lance_ kiss _her_ , then it must be an extremely stressful condition for everyone around her.

Anna abruptly shook herself, trying to shake the depressing thought. Determined to make the most of her temporary sanity, she stood up, intending to get dressed and have some of the food Lance had left for her. Then she would find Lance and tell him not worry about what had happened.

The food was easy; tracking Lance down was not. Sarah gave her an enthusiastic hug before directing her to the western fields to find Lance. Unfortunately, the gunner must have sensed her approach, because when she arrived, the three workers said he'd trotted off to help with the daily hunt. Anna thanked them with a frown before slowly heading back home to wait for him to return.

Several hours passed with her alternating between pacing and staring out the window. The sun inched across the sky with painful slowness, but Lance didn't return for lunch, or for dinner. Anna wound up falling asleep at the table, her head resting on crossed arms.

When she woke the next day, she found she had been tucked into her bed with a glass of water on her side table. Lance was nowhere to be found in the house or the village.

" _Well, fine,_ " Anna thought to herself with immense hurt.

The ranger gathered up her bow for the first time in over a year, strung it despite the protest her muscles gave, scrawled a brief note, and then slipped out her door. Sneaking past the villagers was stupidly easy for her, and she plunged into the trees of Greenwood without hesitating or looking back. Her eyes were set firmly ahead and her goal was clear. She would return to where Gaia had been summoned into her body and delve into the ancient ruins for answers. If nothing else, she would find some brief solitude away from the wary concern that was always around her.

That evening, just after midnight, Lance returned to Anna's house with tired eyes, already prepared to move her to bed and catch a few hours sleep before fleeing again. Yet instead of her sleeping in some chair or at the table, he found the house empty with just a note laying on the table. Immediately, his heart rate picked up with worry before stopping as he read Anna's brief message written in her familiar flowing scrawl.

" _Lance_ ,

 _Gone to the elven ruins to try and fix this, however that may work out. Feel free to leave whenever._

 _Anna_

 _P.S. Don't worry about the kiss. I know it was an accident._ "

The note hadn't even hit the floor before Lance had left the house again. The gunner raced into the near-pitch-black forest. He tripped frequently over roots and vines, and startled many smaller monsters as he crashed through the overgrowth. All he could think was that Anna had gone to flirt with death, and he hadn't been around to stop her like he'd promised. Sarah had even warned him that morning that Anna was likely to try something impulsive if he kept avoiding her, but he hadn't listened. Embarrassment, shame, and confusion had encouraged him to avoid confronting Anna about what he felt, and now...

Now he might never see her again—not if Gaia got ahold of her again.

The crevice leading to the ruins yawned over his head, a dark and imposing fissure in the half moon light. His palms were bloody from tripping, and he'd torn his jacket in more than a few places when he'd recklessly ripped it free from brambles and thorns. His breath came in sharp rasps and sweat stuck his bangs to his forehead, but he didn't pause to recover before diving into the cave.

The memoriam was filled with an eerie half-light from the moon reflecting off the polished stones. The center pedestal was sunk into the ground, leading further into the ruins. Anna was nowhere to be seen, but another creature was.

Maple paced impatiently around the opening, tail lashing and hackles raised while a malcontent growl rumbled from her tiny chest. Lance could only guess the foxhare sensed the odd presence of the ancient ruins, and was smart enough to not enter. She was proof that Anna was inside, however, and Lance swallowed heavily.

"C'mon, girl," he muttered as he paused to let her clamber up to his shoulder. "Let's bring her home."

The tiny mew and familiar weight were a comfort Lance sorely needed as he began the descent down the steep and winding stairs. The traps were still dead, and the whispers gone, but both felt it was more of the world holding its breath than because the spirits were at rest. Still, it made their journey smooth and fast, and they came out into the massive natural altar.

And there Anna was, meditating under the massive tree. Her eyes were closed, her legs crossed, and her bow rested at her side. A soft green glow surrounded her form, and Lance tensed uneasily. Gaia had had a green aura around her, too.

"Anna?" he tried hopefully. Maple was still and silent on his shoulder.

His voice echoed a few times before fading out. Anna merely opened her eyes—eyes that were their normal emerald green. She didn't look surprised to see him at all, but nor did she look happy. He inwardly supposed it was enough that she was still her and sane.

"Come on, let's go," he tried, risking moving forwards.

"I thought you were avoiding me."

Lance winced slightly before awkwardly nodding. "I was, but now I'm not. I... shouldn't have in the first place. I'm sorry."

Anna held his gaze with a skeptical look in her own. "Why did you kiss me?"

Lance froze again, barely three feet away, sensing that this was a test of some sort. Anna was perceptive—very perceptive—and she would catch him if he tried to lie or fudge the truth. His throat moved as he swallowed before he opened his mouth to reply. No noise came out, and Anna's gaze shadowed some and she stood up.

"Why did you kiss me?" she repeated with a tiny hitch to her words.

Lance took a deep, shaking breath. "For the same reason I've stuck around for so long. I- I think I... love you, Anna," he haltingly whispered in an awkward voice.

Anna took a shuddering breath of her own as her eyes drifted to the side and her cheeks flushed. "I thought you might," she admitted in a tiny whisper. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "You shouldn't. You really shouldn't. I'm a mess. I'm broken. I'm nothing like you. You'll be happier with just about anyone else."

"That's probably all true, yet here I am," Lance sighed with a shrug and a self-deprecating smile. Anna didn't look amused, and he let his smile fall. "You're a mess, you're broken, and you're pretty different from me. But I don't think I'd be happier with anyone else. I just..."

His words trailed off and he let his eyes drop while he took a deep breath. Maple pressed a little closer and began purring, sensing his anxiety. Steeling his nerves, and deciding on his words, Lance brought his eyes back up.

"You asked me why I stayed, and I really thought about it. I don't have any one reason; I keep coming back to silly little instances and things that I only got from being around you. Greenwood has really grown on me. I like hunting with the village, and, to an extent, I like working the fields. I like the sight and smell of early mornings in the woods. I like learning all the crafts and skills, and I especially like when you help me with them. I like that there's a society so unique and... good... that is willing to take someone like me and shape me to be better. I like that what I've done while living there makes me more like you—a person I've admired for years. And you were the person who let me enter that world and helped me build my place there. You're the person I looked forwards to making smile, making happy. And in the end, you're the real reason I want to stay and keep learning. Seeing you smile makes me happy; being the cause of you smiling makes my heart race... and kissing you felt so right. If this isn't love, then I'll never know what is."

Anna's eyes had gone wide at his speech. He looked incredibly embarrassed, but painfully honest.

 **OOOOOO**

"It is true that this seal belongs to our son, Lancelot," the lord agreed at great length.

Matt and Natalie braced their patience for the _however_ that they knew was coming.

"However, we have not seen our son in well over a decade. One can only assume he has passed, and as such, you could simply have purchased his seal from a curiosity shop, or even lifted it from his corpse."

"Why in the world would we have come all the way to speak to you if we'd murdered your son?" Matt demanded impatiently. "Lance is perfectly fine and breathing, and we see him regularly. He gave us that letter so that you would help us complete our task. So _help_."

Natalie laid a soothing hand on Matt's arm, but looked up at the lord and lady sitting so regally before them, her expression cool. "Please excuse him. He understandably doesn't take people implying he would hurt or kill his friends very well."

"My husband was merely stating a logical possibility," Leila countered calmly. "You must agree that it is most unusual that you would bear a letter from our estranged child after nearly two decades of silence from him. You claim he is your close friend and adventure and battle companion, yet he is not here with you on your quest of upmost importance. Furthermore, you seek access to a temple well renowned for its lavish implements of worship and exquisite decorations. Surely you can see why these facts added up make us wary of believing you."

Natalie's grip tightened on Matt's arm in warning as she felt him tense at the further insult that they were lying. "Perhaps you could assign us an escort? We only need access to the inner sanctum for a brief ritual to unseal the mana flow."

The lord laughed scornfully. "Do you honestly expect us to believe that a retinue of guards could stop you should you decide you wish to plunder our holy site? We have heard of the battle prowess of Matt and Natalie even here."

Matt growled, despite Natalie's silent look warning him to calm down. "If you had just granted us access three hours ago when we first delivered the letter, we could have prayed and been on our merry way. We're not going to plunder the damn place, you have our word."

"The word of two strangers and a suspicious letter do not amount to much."

"Then how can we prove our good faith?" Natalie asked, cutting across Matt's next argument before he could make things worse.

Both Jonathan and Leila's mouths curled in decidedly sinister sneers, but Leila was the one who spoke. "Convince our son to return home. If you can achieve this, then we will grant full access to all parts of our lands—including the temple."

Natalie hesitated with a frown. "He told us that he would rather not have contact with you. We don't know why, and until very recently, we were not aware he had any surviving relatives. He's very... closed off."

"Then I am afraid our dealings have come to a close. We will cover your lodging fees for tonight, so do spend the rest of the day securing and preparing for a voyage home," Jonathan replied dismissively.

"We'll get him here," Matt blurted out. "Give us time to contact him, and we'll have him here. Then we'll have access to the shrine, right?"

"What are you doing?" Natalie hissed under her breath. "You know Lance won't-"

"Very well. A fortnight should be more than ample time."

Matt nodded and turned to go at the dismissive wave from Johnathan. Once in the reception room, Natalie rounded on him, and he brought his hands up placatingly.

"It'll be fine, Natz," Matt promised. He glanced around and lowered his voice as he turned to lead the way outside. "Lance would be furious if we gave up our chance to help Anna. And even if he isn't willing to come out here, then we have time to sneak into the temple and then sneak off the continent. Might as well loot the place for spite if that happens."

The last part was muttered too low to be heard.

 **OOOOOO**

"They want me to come home," Lance asked flatly without any inflection. "Of all the things to ask, that's what they want."

Matt's expression looked apologetic in the misty screen of light. "I told them we'd do it, but Natz and I can just break in and out of the temple if you don't want to, or can't, come."

"No, you can't," Lance sighed with aggravation as he threw himself down beside Anna, who was listening with interest and concern. "The temple can only be entered with a blessing—a blessing only the caretakers can give. And those two are the caretakers, like it or not."

"So why not go?" Anna asked, speaking up for the first time. "I mean, it's not like you'd have to stay there. All they asked for was for you to show up, after all."

"Because I hate them, that's why. And they'll find a reason for me to stay. Did they say why they want me?"

"No, nothing."

"Are they aware that it's a two month trip and I'm caring for someone?" Lance sighed in an already resigned tone.

"We mentioned something to that extent, yeah."

"I'm not leaving Anna here," Lance warned flatly.

"I can go with you. We were talking about seeing how I'd fare going outside Greenwood, anyway," Anna suggested calmly.

"I was thinking someplace a little closer to home than across an ocean," Lance blandly muttered. He chewed on his lower lip in thought before sighing. "Tell them I'll be there as soon as the winds allow and I'm bringing a... friend, and that I'm not staying."

"We will. See you soon," Natalie agreed before severing the connection.

Lance stayed where he was for several long moments, simply staring at the wood of the table. Anna waited patiently for the impending curse and muttering. She wasn't disappointed.

"Damn old farts. They always do this. Next thing you know, I'll be accused of abandoning my country—which carries a prison sentence, at the least—and never mind that I have five older siblings. _Five!_ I'm not needed for succession, and they have plenty of kids for arranged marriages of power. All they really want me there for is a damn power trip to prove I'll listen once in a while. Fuck them."

Anna smiled slightly at his ending. "Feeling better?"

Lance snorted. "No, but it's a start." He turned his eyes to her and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. Now, are you sure you want to come along? They're going to be absolutely rotten to you as soon as they find out I love you."

Anna shrugged. "So? I don't know them, and I don't care to. I don't particularly care if I'm in their good graces or not."

Lance smiled slightly. "And there's the bullheaded girl I love. C'mon, let's pack and let the others know."

 **OOOOOO**

"No wonder you think we're a bunch of savages," Anna half-joked as she craned her head back to stare at the arch they were passing under. "Even Goldenbrick's architecture is pretty pathetic compare to this."

Lance shrugged as he glanced up at the tall buildings looming on all sides. "The capital is the culmination of over a thousand years of relatively stable rule and profitable trade. Goldenbrick is only a hundred years old by comparison, though I imagine it'll end up something like this someday."

"What's the language everyone is speaking? Can you speak it, too?" Anna asked as she turned her eyes to the many bakeries and street vendors calling out their wares.

"Ralvish, and yes. It's my birth language," Lance replied tightly as he guided Anna down a side alley he remembered using as a young teen to slip into the city proper without being noticed by the many patrols. "Stick close, this next street is always really crowded."

Anna obediently slipped her hand into his and cocked her head at the approaching drone of hundreds of voices all talking at once. Her eyes widened as they rounded the corner to the sight of a sea of people bustling about as thick as blades of grass in a field. Meekly, her shoulders hunched in a mixture of unease and shyness, and her hand tightened around Lance's. A gentle, reassuring squeeze from him helped a little as they stepped into the flood of people.

Shoulders jostled them every step of the way, but Lance kept forging a path directly through the crowd, ignoring the street vendors and beggars reaching out to them and everyone around them. A swirl of foreign voices and words occasionally intermixed with phrases she understood washed over her, and she uncomfortably likened it to when she remembered snippets and pieces of the broken memories she suffered from.

Then they were through the crowd and Lance was shouldering his way into a lodging; she just barely caught sight of a worn wooden sign depicting a nesting raven hanging over the door before she was dragged inside. It was much dimmer inside than out in the sun, and Anna balked in favor of blinking to adjust her eyes to the change in lighting. She found herself blinking at an empty dining room with several worn, round, wooden tables scattered about and a fire warming the space. A thin veil of smoke clung to the ceiling, and smelled of cooking food and some acrid stench she couldn't identify.

Lance had left her beside the door in favor of striding up to the desk and ringing a bell to summon the owner. A stooped middle-aged man came out of a back room to greet the new arrivals, and he and Lance exchanged a few quiet words before a pouch of gold changed hands and the gunner was given a key. Lance nodded his thanks and half turned to gesture for Anna to follow.

"We're in luck: Matt and Natz are here now," Lance told Anna quietly as they climbed the narrow, creaky stairs to the third floor.

"It'll be good to see them again," Anna hummed with a smile. Then she frowned thoughtfully, though Lance couldn't see it. "I wonder how they got past the language barrier?"

Lance snorted and shook his head in a mixture of exasperation and admiration. "Matt, despite his outward behavior to the contrary, is brilliant with languages, and Natalie isn't too shabby, either. I'm sure they either already knew Ralvish, or picked enough of it up from the trade language to get by."

They stopped outside a worn door halfway down the hall, and Lance raised a hand to knock. A few moments passed in silence before a latch slid back and the barrier opened to reveal Matt cautiously peering out at them. A split second later, and his face split into a smile of delighted welcome, and he stood back to let them in.

"You guys made good time," he said cheerfully once the door was closed again.

"Hey, Lance, Anna!" Natalie greeted with a smile from where she was reclined on a bed with a stack of books beside her and one open before her. "You're both looking good. I'm glad to see you're doing well, Anna."

The friendly greeting, and lack of immediate coddling, caused a tension Anna hadn't even realized had built up to fade away, and she offered a wry smile of her own. "I haven't had a relapse in weeks—my longest stretch yet. Kinda wouldn't have missed the boat ride, though."

Lance snorted at that and informed the other two, "She spent almost the entire first half with her head in a bucket, and we had clear weather the entire way. Definitely not a sea dog, though I found out she can swear like one."

"You're all heart, Lance," Anna stated dryly with a roll of her eyes. "So, any word from the lord and lady since we last spoke?"

"Other than that they're covering our lodgings, no," Matt replied as he moved to sit down on the second bed. His tone was level, but his eyes were serious as he added, "Despite that, however, we've had a couple shadows following us. I don't know if it's just to keep tabs, or if they're a threat, but we've been laying low, for the most part."

"Which is why it's great that you two are finally here," Natalie added fondly. She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, and added, "Between you and me, I think being cooped up is addling his head."

A pillow flew across the room to hit her head, and she let out a laugh as she threw it back at a pouting Matt.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : And again, FF removed all my italics. Le sighe. A problem for another day._

 _I'm not dead. Still in therapy, but I think I'm making slow, steady progress. Anyway, this is another super long thingy that I really like that I work on every now and again. Obviously mostly Anna/Lance centric, though I plan to include parts with what Matt and Natalie are doing. The style changes slightly throughout it since it was written over the course of several months. Some things to know: the elvish is complete BS that I flung out that means nothing and doesn't really translate at all, the lyrics for the Hymn at the start are taken from "The Sky and the Dawn and the Sun" by the Celtic Woman, and if you want to know what a foxhare looks like, I have a bunch of doodles I've done of them on my Deviant art profile._

 _Oh, and for those of you that haven't seen the note on my author's page, Ch. 2, Escort, of Another Epic Collection has had an addition to the end, so if that interests you, please go read it! :3 I don't think you guys get an update notification for additions to pre-existing chapter, so I can only let you all know in less obtrusive ways. :P_

 _Responses to Guest reviewers:_

 _ **Little Follower** : Thank you for the kind review and understanding of my situation. It means so much that you were willing to take the time to write an encouraging pick-me-up. _

_Have I ever really told you how much I enjoy reading your reviews? They're so entertaining and hit everything an author wants from a review. XD Anyway, Guardians is a mess, plot-wise, especially from an outsider standpoint with no view into what will happen in the massive time skips. :P I promise the plot is more cohesive and smooth in my head than it is here on FF. (^_^;) Some parts will remained unexplained for where they are just because people, realistically, don't noodle through their emotions and situations all the time, and especially not in the moment, and I'm not sure how to write that kind of explanation in narration as of yet. Like Natalie is depressed, and speaking from a standpoint as a depressed person, you don't question a lot of what's wrong with yourself and your views, and you certainly don't rationize and react in any healthy or reasonable manner. You recognize you're depressed, and you even take steps to try and cope with or undo the depression or forgive yourself, but it takes time, and thought, and outside help to really understand why everything is happening to you and get back to feeling good. Anyway, I went off on a tangent there. Sorry. :P_

 _ **Miles** : I've actually started writing more, and am filling in the two hundred year part where Natalie is dead, focused on Lance and Anna coping with the changes to the world, team, themselves,_ _and grief, but the document is so long that my iPad lags when I type, so I had to make their part its own seperate document. XD_

 _ **Jason** : It's been ages since your review, and since then I have played_ _the privately beta, and I can assure you that it's a great game and you're sure to enjoy it! :3 As for the AUs, I like to think it makes okay to make up a billion backstories for the characters. XD_


	14. Recover (T)

**Title** : Recover

 **Genre** : Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, light Romance

 **Pairing** : Light Lance x Anna

 **Rating** : T

 **Warnings** : Mentions of abuse, language, light sexual themes

* * *

Lance raised his eyes from his book in surprise at the knock that came to his door. Matt never knocked when he visited, and Natalie never visited without accompanying Matt. Curiously, he set his book aside and stood up to head for the front door, glancing at the clock he passed on his way. Nine in the evening: late for visitors to come knocking, plus it had been raining all day, so it was a miserable day for traveling.

"Better not be hikers looking for lodging," he muttered as he flipped the latch and opened the door. And standing there in the misting light of his front porch, dripping from the rain, and looking horribly uncertain was someone he hadn't seen in years. "...Anna...?"

Green eyes flicked up to briefly meet his before dancing skittishly to the side. "...Can I come in?" she asked in a soft, uncertain voice.

Lance was already standing back. "Of course you can. Just wait there on the mat and I'll bring some towels."

He trotted off down the hall, barely catching the soft _thanks_ she responded with over the sound of the door closing. When he came back with two towels, he found her standing exactly where he'd left her, her shoulders slumped and her eyes tiredly studying his front hall. Her movements were almost mechanical as she accepted the towels and began drying her hair and patting at her clothing. Lance stood awkwardly to one side, unsure of how to talk to her after so long—and they hadn't exactly parted on good terms—plus she looked terribly exhausted in some way. He wondered why she had come here instead of going to one of their other friends, the two who had had more contact with her.

"You, uh, want something to drink? I've got some instant cocoa, I think," he finally offered. Cocoa had always been one of her favorites back before.

Anna's mouth curled in a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you don't mind."

And so he left her to make herself comfortable in his sitting room while he made the warm drinks. Strange, he thought as he watched steam curl from his worn kettle. She was acting strange—very strange—and she seemed miserable for some reason. Miserable enough to come to his house late in the evening in the middle of a rainstorm after almost four years of not speaking to him? She had neighbors who adored her, friends who supported her, and a husband who loved her, so why come to her least close acquaintance?

He was still puzzling over the quandary when he returned to find Anna had fallen asleep on the sofa using a towel as a blanket and with her damp hair in her mouth. With a faint, amused snort at the sight, he quietly set the two steaming mugs aside and moved to tuck his throw blanket over her shoulders and shift her legs up onto the sofa. He resolved to get his answers in the morning.

Birds chirping and watery sunlight were what woke Anna the following day. Her eyes peeled open to see a strange living room and she blanched at the sight before remembering the night before. Immediately, she sat up, peeling her cheek away from the leather armrest with an audible sticking noise, and she rubbed at her face as her mind raced.

Why in all the gods names had she come to _Lance's_ house? And why in all the gods names had he let her in? He hated her! She was in so much trouble. She'd already yelled at Lana, run out on Michael, and come to Lance. Why had she thought coming _here_ was a good idea?

"Good morning."

Lance's greeting derailed her half panicked thoughts and she flinched before twisting around to see him leaning in the doorway, sipping on a mug of what smelled like coffee. He arched a brow in the face of her shock, and her breath caught at the painfully familiar expression. She silently watched as he walked to sit across from her in a worn recliner. He wore an old, beat up, white shirt and loose, baggy shorts—a much more casual and unkempt look than she'd ever seen from him.

"You sleep alright? Must've been exhausted to fall asleep in damp clothes," Lance asked amicably.

"Sorry," Anna blurted out. She shifted uncomfortably when Lance merely frowned in confusion, and stammered, "For coming here. Dunno what I was thinking. And then I just fell asleep on you. Terrible manners. And-"

"Woah, woah, woah, rein in the mammoth, Anna," Lance laughed easily. He leaned to set his coffee on the low table between them before relaxing back again. "First off, I don't particularly care if you fell asleep right away. Frankly, that's a lot better than what Natz and Matt do when they show up drunk out of their minds."

"Still..." Anna mumbled with her eyes fixed on her clenched fingers in her lap. "I could have at least asked how you were doing, or something..."

"Eh, I don't much like small talk anyway," Lance dismissed with a shrug and a wave of his hand. "So, what brings you all the way out to see me? Everything going okay?"

Anna was baffled at his open acceptance of her presence. Where were the snide jokes and sneers, the accusatory jabs and angry glares? He didn't even mention how long since they'd last spoken, like it didn't matter. Instead he only looked curious and a bit concerned for her. Somehow, that made her feel worse.

"...Everything's fine," she mumbled, still refusing to look up. "I just- I don't know what I'm doing out here..."

"Mmhmm," Lance hummed, unconvinced before abruptly changing the topic. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"You don't need to feed me."

Lance frowned at her. "Alright, quit that. Sulking doesn't suit you, and neither does lying. Pancakes and sausage for breakfast, then we'll see about getting you in a shower."

With that, he stood and strode purposefully for the kitchen, leaving her with no chance to argue or refuse. To his relief, he heard her following him to sit at the small kitchen table, and twenty minutes later they were both digging into a tasty meal. Tense silence reigned throughout the whole meal, but neither person betrayed their discomfort beyond a few shifts or glances. Finally, Lance grew impatient.

"So... How's the hubby?"

Anna tensed slightly at his leap right into a sore topic. "You don't even like him, why do you care how he's doing?" she muttered evasively.

"It's the people closest to you each day that can make you the most miserable," Lance stated sagely, smoothly sidestepping her attempt at a distraction. He nodded at her hand, "You're not wearing your ring, so I assume there's been a fight."

"I just forgot it at home," Anna explained shortly.

"' _Forgot_ ' your symbol of a lifelong bond?" Lance asked sarcastically.

"Drop it, Lance."

The acid in her voice brought him up short, and he stared at her. Her flinty gaze was fixed on her empty plate and she looked somewhere between snarling and crying. He drew in a deep breath to let out as a long, silent sigh. This was his first time seeing his old friend in years, so was it really worth upsetting her so much right off the bat?

"Alright, I'm sorry," he mumbled as he slid back from the table. "Shower is in the same place as always. Feel free to freshen up."

He honestly expected for her to leave while he was upstairs taking his time dressing for the day, and checking up on some diagnostics he'd been running. But to his pleasant surprise, she was seated on his sofa again, wearing an oversized shirt and baggy sweats of his that he recognized from the stack of clean laundry he'd left in the guest room. Her hair was wet from the shower, and she looked to be in better spirits. Her eyes darted up to meet his before she flushed and looked away.

"I didn't bring any changes of clothes," she explained quietly.

"Eh, it's not the first time you've borrowed a shirt," he excused easily. "I can run your clothes with the next load, if you'd like."

"I already tossed them in," Anna admitted. She briefly glanced up again before mumbling, "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

Lance feigned shock, looking around himself with great, exaggerated gestures. "Do my ears deceive me? Was that, _gasp_ , a deserved and sincere apology? From _Anna?_ To _me?_ Do we have this on record?"

Anna's lips quirked in a smile of amusement. "Nope, you must be mistaken. I wouldn't apologize to you and mean it."

Though he didn't show it, her returning banter eased a great weight off his back, and he grinned. "Darn. Maybe next time." His smile grew when she laughed, and he decided to take a risky dip back into potentially dangerous territory. "So, how long will you be visiting for? It's been ages since we last spoke, and I'm sure I've got a few interesting tales to tell."

Anna hesitated before shrugging. "I dunno. A few days, maybe? I just... need a break."

"Matt and Natz unavailable?" Lance asked curiously as he gestured for her to follow him to his workshop.

"No- or, rather, I don't know. I haven't seen them in a couple months—not since the summer solstice festival."

Not really an answer to what he really wanted to know, but he supposed he shouldn't have expected her to crack that easily. And as it turned out, Anna was exceptionally stubborn about spilling what her issue was over the next several days. She didn't lose her temper when he lightly prodded, but she also gave him nothing to work with. It was maddening, yet also the most interesting thing he'd had to deal with in a long time. He had to admit that he'd missed trying to noodle through whatever the hell was bothering his friends. It was only a matter of time, anyway, he was sure. Sooner or later, Anna would slip up and he'd get another piece to the puzzle.

Three weeks went by with no progress, but it was an enjoyable period nonetheless; Lance didn't pressure, or even remind, Anna that she had places she should be going or that it had been quite a lot longer than a few days. They quickly fell back into an easy camaraderie, laughing and teasing, and working together on daily chores and tasks. Anna was appropriately interested in what he'd been doing with his time since the team had disbanded, and laughed at his stories of what messes he'd gotten into, or the things he'd had to fix that Matt broke. She was impressed with the wealth he'd managed to rake in from selling a few of his less volatile inventions, and even admitted to wanting some of the gadgets and devices he had around his home, like his washing machine and cold food storage. His offer to install one in her home was turned down, however, with only vague explanations for why it wouldn't work.

Almost a month into her visit, Lance got a pair of visitors: Matt and Natalie stood on his doorstep with worried expressions.

"It's a bit of a long shot, but have you seen Anna?" Natalie asked anxiously. "Apparently, she ran away in a state of upset well over a month ago, and no one has seen her since, or knows where she went. Michael's been really worried for her."

Lance almost revealed that Anna was staying with him, but something held him back. His mind rapidly calculated how long Anna had been at his house, and he mentally frowned as he realized that there were at least two weeks unaccounted for. And, pettily, he still didn't like Michael, and he suspected the man was responsible for Anna's reclusive and depressed behavior.

"Why would Anna come here?" he lied smoothly. "I'm pretty sure her exact words were _I hope I never see you again_ after I refused to go to her wedding, and that was four years ago."

He felt a little guilty for lying to some of his closest friends, but he suspected any progress he'd made with Anna would be undone if others got involved. He watched Matt and Natalie's shoulders slump with worry and offered a half smile.

"She's fine, guys. Someone as stubborn as her won't get killed that easily. Besides, she is a pretty tough warrior."

"But she hasn't been out hunting like she used to," Natalie fretted. "I doubt she could even draw one of her bows anymore, and she isn't good enough with her magic to get away with using just spells."

That... was an interesting tidbit, Lance noted: Anna hadn't been hunting in long enough to lose muscle definition. He filed the thought away in favor of shrugging.

"Then she gets cucked by a dragon, one less idiot in the world," he joked lightly before raising his hands defensively when Natalie glared at him in exasperation for his callous humor. "I'll run one of my old scanners to try and track her mana—I'm pretty sure I have her signature saved somewhere."

Placated, Matt and Natalie stepped inside. As Lance had suspected, Anna hadn't wanted to see them, and had made herself scarce; he hoped she hadn't left entirely. And so he made a small show of turning dials and hitting buttons on a defunct computer in the basement and fed Matt and Natalie a cock and bull story about _Anna possibly being east of Goldenbrick, but that the machine was probably slightly inaccurate_ to get them out of his hair for a few more weeks. He waved them off with a fake-promise to contact them if he saw Anna, and shut the door.

"You lied to them," Anna noted curiously from where she was now sitting on the stairs.

Lance shrugged easily. "It's not the first time. Besides, you must have a pretty good reason to want to be off the grid, and I'm not one to make more problems than necessary. And what they don't know won't hurt them... probably."

Anna studied his face for several moments before relief shone in her eyes. "I appreciate it."

Lance shrugged again, "You're welcome, but now maybe you owe me at least a bit of an explanation."

Anna's expression fell and she bit her lower lip as her eyes darted left and right uncertainly. She let out a shuddering sigh. "You'll think it's ridiculous," she mumbled.

"Doubtful, but possible."

"You'll laugh."

"Also doubtful, but possible."

"It's really stupid."

"And again: doubtful, but possible," Lance replied evenly before gesturing to the sitting room. "Come on, maybe I can help? If nothing else, it might help to get it off your chest."

Anna reluctantly followed him and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, looking like she was going to bolt at any moment. Still, it didn't take as long as Lance had thought for her to spill.

"I'm... having a lot of problems with... with Michael," she started haltingly. When Lance didn't immediately snort or roll his eyes, or do anything beyond nod encouragingly, she relaxed a little. Her finger traced across her knuckles nervously as she went on in a low voice, "He doesn't like a lot of my hobbies—especially hunting and hiking through the woods."

Lance, though he outwardly didn't show it, wasn't surprised in the slightest, and he was beginning to suspect he knew where this conversation was going end up. From day one, Michael had struck him as a machismo jerk who wouldn't like a girl being more talented at fighting than him. He could only hope the situation wasn't already too terrible.

"He'd get upset if I even so much as talked about going hunting, always saying he couldn't stand the thought of me getting hurt. So I... quit going on solo hunts, started joining the village's group hunts. That quelled the fights for awhile, but then he started getting upset about those, too."

"So you quit hunting all together, to keep the peace," Lance guessed in a tone that wasn't the least bit uncertain. "How long ago was that?"

"Less than a year into the marriage," Anna admitted. "I can't even pick up a bow around him without him getting worked up. When I try to argue that I'm a capable fighter and nothing in Greenwood or Ashwood is a threat, he gets upset that I think he's being unreasonable for being concerned for my health."

Check one for Controlling Asshole Syndrome, Lance thought to himself sarcastically. Michael even did the typical guilt her into thinking it was out of concern for her wellbeing. He couldn't even be surprised that it had worked so quickly: Anna had always been an easy target for guilt.

"I'm going to guess the same problems crop up for going on walks alone, too, right?"

Anna winced slightly, but nodded. Her eyes fell to her knees as she admitted, "I have to take him with me, or he gets upset." She didn't mention the one time she'd suggested getting a friend to go with her, and he'd flipped out that she was already cheating on him—that had led to her smacking him for thinking her so shallow, and that... hadn't ended well. Instead, she mumbled, "I hate getting into fights with him. It always feels like I'm the one being ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous to want to walk through the woods of your home as you've always done since being a child," Lance refuted firmly. "You don't need a babysitter. He's being a little twat for trying to stop you."

Anna shrugged noncommittally. "Then there's how much he refuses to do around the house. Cooking, cleaning, laundry... He won't even take his own damn dishes to the kitchen, just expects me to clean up after him, and if I don't, he complains that the house is messy, that he's worked hard in the workshop all day, and that it would be nice to come home to a clean house. And he _does_ work hard, so it shouldn't be so much to ask for me to tidy up, but I feel like a maid, and then I feel bad for not doing something so simple to help out."

And there's check two, Lance inwardly sighed: wanting to control her actions even when he wasn't around, expecting her to conform to his wishes in everything, and running another layer of guilt when she balked. He wouldn't be surprised if Anna had been being isolated while this was gong on, too—she already lived on the outskirts of her village, so it wouldn't be hard to keep others away. Except, Matt and Natalie still visited her, so why hadn't they stepped in? Natalie certainly wouldn't stand for this kind of domestic mental abuse. He frowned slightly at the inconsistency before turning his attention back to Anna, who was looking increasingly upset. There was something important he needed to know.

"When he gets... upset... what does he do?"

Anna shrugged uncomfortably. "Yells, slams doors and cabinets, stomps; if he's really mad, he might swear at me, or hit a wall, or something. He... likes to get up in my face."

Lance frowned at the way she avoided his eyes. "Does he do anything else?" he pressed. Anna's shrug only solidified his concerns, and he felt a pulse of anger begin to bubble up, but he pushed it back down. Anna didn't need two men in her life yelling at her, even if his yells would be in defensive anger on her behalf, and not to belittle or intimidate her. "Did he have an episode the night you ran away?" he asked instead.

"Yes, but about something else," Anna mumbled. Tears were welling in her eyes and she couldn't lift her gaze for shame. "He... he likes to drink... a lot... He didn't before, but now... And it's because of _me_..."

" _Oh, no,_ " Lance thought. Michael was a lot worse than his instincts had initially feared, and he'd left Anna in the clutches of an abusive, controlling, alcoholic, pathetic excuse for a husband. He'd bet every last gold he owned that Anna had been beaten at least once—probably more than once. He cautiously stood up to move beside Anna and coaxed her into an awkward one armed hug. "It isn't your fault."

"It _is!_ " Anna insisted hysterically. Her mental barriers came down, and she began sobbing uncontrollably, unaware of the way Lance tightened his grip in an effort to ground and console her. "H-He wa-wanted a fami-i-ily, and I couldn't...!"

Lance's eyes flashed, and he shut them in an effort to leash a fresh surge of rage. The anger still showed in his voice as he growled, "Did he rape you?"

Anna recoiled and shook her head violently, tears flying from her cheeks with the motion. "No, of course not! I'm his wife! I just-! I can't! I can't get pregnant!"

Lance's cheeks flushed unwillingly at the blunt statement, and he briefly wondered at his sudden role of marriage counselor-therapist, but he shook his head to chase the thoughts off and rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder. He used his other hand to bring her face up to meet his eyes. "First off, whether or not you're infertile is not your fault, and no one should blame you for it—least of all the man who supposedly vowed to love and cherish you," he started firmly and seriously. "Second off, just because you're his wife doesn't mean you have to have sex with him, whether he wants it or not. If he's been forcing, or coercing, or guilting you, and I'll bet my entire weapon collection that he has been, then that is still rape, and he is dead wrong for doing it to you."

Anna's eyes widened at his words, and she found herself entranced at the depth of sincerity, concern, and livid anger sparking in Lance's eyes. Not once had she ever considered any sex she'd had with Michael to be rape, even when it had hurt or been unpleasant. And no one had ever told her it wasn't her own fault that she was infertile, which was an unbelievable, yet liberating thing to hear. And Lance wasn't done.

"And finally, he has no right to keep you from the people you love and the things you enjoy. If you want to go track down a bear and kill it, then you should do so. If you want to take a walk in Ashwood in the middle of the night, then go for it. And if you want to leave dirty dishes sitting on the table, or counter, or whatever, and he has a problem with that when he walks in? Well, he has two hands and half a brain—he can figure out how to clean up his own damn mess," Lance declared. His eyes searched hers for a moment before he let go of her face and smiled, "And you are strong enough to tell him that yourself. You are no wimp, coward, or weakling, Anna. You're a fierce warrior capable of standing her own against any monster or god, and coming out better for it. And if you can face down a god, then what's one drunken pissant who thinks he owns you?"

Anna felt her lips curl upwards in an unbidden and flattered smile. Lance returned her smile with a tense one of his own and carefully brushed a few tears from her cheeks.

"But just because you're strong enough to do that on your own doesn't mean you should have to," he finished quietly. "I'll come with you to break it off with him."

Anna's eyes widened at his words, and her mouth parted slightly. Break it off? Divorce Michael? She'd never even considered it an option. Everyone would talk about it after so long of her being married to the man. How could she explain this to anybody else so that they understood the severity of the situation? Lance had gotten more details than anyone else, sure, but even he hadn't heard everything—he was just smart and cynical enough to make the right connections on his own. Would even Matt and Natalie believe her? They hadn't seemed to think anything was wrong all this time, and they had actually seen her in the environment. Lance had only gotten her side of the story, and she was sure she'd done and said things that had exasperated the issues, so maybe she'd just blown everything out of proportion?

"I can't," she mumbled.

Lance stilled and his smile dropped into a frown. "Can't... what? Dump the bastard? Of course you can, and you should."

"What if I'm just misreading everything? I'm mean, surely somebody else would have stepped in by now if things were really that bad?"

"Don't count on that," Lance refuted darkly. "Society has most people trained to look away from problems in the private home. They may know it's happening and that it's wrong, and they probably even gossip about it, but they won't necessarily _do_ anything about the problem. Besides, I knew from day one that that man is a problem—I just wish I had known how much of one he would become."

"But what about Matt and Natalie? They wouldn't have... have let him..."

"Abuse you?" Lance supplied quietly before he shook his head. "No, they wouldn't have... if they had known. I suspect they think you've been acting strange, but have written it off as you settling down into a family life. I mean, it took me, a suspicious bastard, nearly a month of contact with you, and without Michael, to get the story. And as much as I love those two, they aren't the most forward or critical thinkers in history. Besides, I doubt they've been around you as much as they used to, and even when they were around, I doubt Michael was on anything but his best behavior."

Anna relaxed slightly at the explanation, and at the way it settled a long, deep seated fear that maybe her friends just hadn't cared. That fear had been what had brought her to Lance's doorstep that rainy night rather than her other friends' door. She'd been frazzled enough to not think about the consequences of approaching her estranged friend, and he had been caring and mature enough to not be holding a grudge or her words against her. And now here he was, comforting, consoling, and advising her, just as he'd always used to, like he'd never left her back. She wondered why the hell she'd ever given this camaraderie up for some stupid dream to marry and have a family.

"You're right, I should tell him we're done," she decided firmly through a sniffle. She peeked up at Lance's eyes before asking timidly, "And you'll be there, too, right?"

"Of course," Lance vowed. "I don't trust him alone with you anymore, anyway. When do you want to go?"

Anna glanced at the clock and shook her head. "Not tonight. He's probably blitzed out right now, anyway." Her words were bitter and resigned, but her gaze was clear when she looked back around at Lance. "Besides, I think I've done enough time in the emotional wringer today. I just want a nice, long shower and a comfy bed."

"Your wish is my command," Lance promised jokingly as he stood up and held out his hand.

Anna stared at the offered hand and the silent vow of support it represented. She grinned and firmly clasped her own around his to be pulled to her feet, and held it for a moment longer before throwing her arms around him. "Thank you so much for everything," she whispered against his chest. Her lips twitched as he stiffened at the sudden affection, then relaxed, then began reaching jokingly for her butt. "And I'll also thank you to keep your hands to yourself, jerk."

Lance immediately pulled away with a laugh and sparkling eyes. "Yeah, yeah, go take your shower, you prude," he teased as she turned away.

And that night resulted in some of the best sleep Anna had had in years. Rather than feeling torn up about her decision, she felt relief. Some buried part of her had recognized that this rotten marriage had nothing left in it to cling to—it was why she'd abandoned her ring—and that part of her was ecstatic at her rapidly approaching freedom. She woke the following morning feeling filled with restless, eager energy and a bright feeling she eventually recognized as hope. Lance was waiting for her by the door, dressed in his old Camo Jacket and pants with his gunblade slung at his hip and a rifle across his back. He tossed her a paper bag containing her breakfast, having foreseen that she would want to set out immediately.

Greenwood, when they reached it that afternoon, came awake in a buzz of excitement at her return—doubly so at who had brought her home. Anna smiled to a few people, and waved her hand when they called to ask if she was alright. Lance nodded to the few surprised greetings thrown his way, but stayed on Anna's heels as she led the way to her home.

The treehouse had been expanded, he noted when they hesitated outside the door. A proper house had been built around the base to add more rooms for storage, sleeping, and relaxing, rather than the single divided up room Anna had used as a hunter's lodge that the home had been before. The garden had been expanded a little, but the plants were in poor shape with weeds encroaching for Anna having been gone for a month. The racks that had been set up to prepare pelts were long gone—an unsurprising result of her no longer hunting.

Anna stared up at her house for a long time until she felt Lance's hand land on her shoulder to give her a reassuring squeeze. Her own hand crept up to cover his in thanks before she stepped forwards and opened the barrier.

Inside, seated in the small living room, were Matt, Natalie, and Michael. All three looked up and around in shock at Anna standing there, though their eyes narrowed on the man behind her—for different reasons. Matt and Natalie couldn't believe the gall of Lance to show up with Anna, proving that he'd lied to their faces about where she'd been a day after the lie, though they were mainly relieved their friend was alright and in mostly good company. Michael was furious at the sight of _his_ wife bringing a different man into _his_ home.

"Where have you _been?_ " Natalie scolded as she leapt up to give Anna a tight hug, followed closely by Matt. "We've been worried sick since we heard!"

"Around, mostly at Lance's," Anna replied somewhat vaguely.

Her eyes darted over her friends' shoulders to her husband's eyes as she said that, and she saw the dark flash of rage there that she had always tried to deny. With a deep breath, she pulled away from Matt's hug to stand before Michael. The man had a mask of concerned delight on his face, but his eyes were cold, promising a shouting match and likely a beating later; both of which he'd never have with her again. She stepped away from his possessive hug. Yet even as she pulled the words up in her mind that she wanted and needed to say, some beaten and cowed part of her rose up to demand she duck her head and apologize. It took Lance stepping forwards to rest a hand on her shoulder for her to straighten up, square her shoulders, and glare at the monster wearing a man's skin.

"I revoke my marriage vows. I refuse to play this charade as your wife any longer, and I refuse to let you control me anymore," Anna announced coldly.

She heard Matt and Natalie mutter in shock, but she ignored them in favor of watching Michael's eyes widen in shock and a fake hurt before they narrowed in rage. The next instants were a sudden explosion of motion and noise as Lance suddenly lunged past her to tackle the man to the floor, swiftly getting him in a hold and wrestling a wood knife from his hand. Anna had shrunk back in a mixture of shock and an instinctive fear, and she felt a pair of reassuring hands steady her.

Lance's expression was one of icy wrath as he easily, and with no small amount of delight, dislocated both of Michael's shoulders, earning him a screech of agony from the man. He stood up and back and delivered a swift kick to the man's ribs, and heard a satisfying crunch followed by Natalie snapping to know what the hell was going on and Matt hauling him back to restrain him from doing more. Lance shook off the swordsman and crossed his arms to hide the rage that had them trembling. The man had dared to try and strike Anna down after years of trying to mold her to be his broken little doll of a wife.

"If you think for one instant that you'll ever be safe from me, think again," he spat at the man whimpering on the ground, his eyes practically glowing. "You will never find shelter, you will never find aid, and you will never know safety again for what you did to her. You hear me? _Never_. Watch your back and keep one eye open, monster."

Matt and Natalie both recoiled at the hatred coiling along Lance's words. He was wound tight like a spring ready to launch, and they suspected the only thing preventing a bloodbath right here and now was that they were standing there and would stop him. Anna stood off to one side, obviously upset, but not about to intervene—if anything, she looked relieved.

"Alright, what the hell?" Natalie finally snapped for a second time. "Lance, you told us yesterday that you hadn't seen Anna in four years, yet you showed up with her today, assaulted and threatened her husband-"

"Don't call that bastard my husband," Anna cut in quietly.

"Ex-husband, then," Natalie corrected, impatiently. "And that leads me to my next question? What the hell is making you divorce him? You've been married for years now! He's been worrying about you nonstop since you ran away!"

"Oh, I'll bet he was worried," Lance muttered with dark sarcasm. "Probably had his head stuffed in the third keg."

"He has been drinking a lot, yeah," Matt agreed slowly, studying Lance suspiciously.

Lance snorted in disgust. "Of course he's been drinking a lot."

"He's an alcoholic, abusive, controlling, bastard of a human being that I'm ashamed I ever saw any good in," Anna stated in a flat, emotionless voice. Her voice fell further as she murmured, "And I wish I had had the courage and good sense to get him out of my life before he dragged my self-worth and dignity through the mud."

Michael remained mostly silent throughout their exchange, though whether it was out of fear, self-preservation, or pain, none of them were sure. Matt cast his own cold glare at the other man before gesturing for them to all step outside.

"You should have told us," he scolded Anna once they were out of earshot of the man.

Lance stepped forwards defensively. "Don't blame her for falling for the same damn tricks all victims of abuse fall for. He preyed on her guilt and good nature so that he could take and take without ever giving anything but abuse in return."

Anna pressed a hand to his chest to calm him, though not without a grateful smile for his standing up for her. "I wanted to tell you, but I had convinced myself that there wasn't anything serious wrong. I'm sorry for not trusting myself and you two more."

"Speaking of not trusting," Natalie muttered with a sour look at Lance, who looked entirely unapologetic.

"Oops, guess I lied to you again. Sorry about that," he said airily with a smirk and not sounding the least bit sorry.

Matt rolled his eyes with a snort, but let it go, knowing that Lance had had Anna's best interests in mind. He turned his eyes to Anna, who was smiling at Lance. "What do you want to do with the bastard crying on the floor in your house?"

"Kill him?"

"No murder, Lance," Anna refused with a grin. She turned to study her house for a long, silent moment before shrugging. "Leave him there. He can have the damn place."

"Then I guess we should pack up your things," Natalie decided briskly. "Would you like to borrow a room at our place until you work out something more permanent?"

"Actually, I'd like..." Anna started hesitantly before trailing off with a glance at where Lance was glaring sullenly at the wall of her house, clearly thinking Michael had gotten off too easy. Her face fell slightly before her gaze dropped. "Never mind. Staying at your place would be great, thank you."

"That sick of me already?" Lance asked in a faux-hurt voice as he finally broke off his glaring match with the wall. He smirked at Anna's surprised look and added, "Too bad, I'm kidnapping you for a little longer. You still owe me a fixed yard, remember?"

Anna's entire face brightened at the offer and reinforcement that he still considered her his friend, mistakes, and flaws, and all.

"Glad you two have finally gotten over pissing at each other," Matt teased lightheartedly before gesturing to the house. "C'mon, let's get your stuff, Anna."

"You guys do that, I have to go talk to Lana," Lance announced. He shrugged when Anna shot him a look, and pointed out, "I'm going to kill him if I see him again, so if you have a problem with that, then I shouldn't see him."

Anna's smile was a little exasperated as she waved him off, and she watched him trudge back towards Greenwood proper and vanish into the trees. Natalie and Matt waited behind her with smiles of their own, but for a different reason.

"So... You and Lance? Natalie fished once Anna finally turned around. To her surprise, Anna snorted and shook her head. "Really? You seem pretty close to him, and he's definitely on the high defensive over you."

"We're not involved," Anna insisted firmly. Her smile was wistful as she glanced after Lance again. "I needed a stable friend and a good ear, and he was nice enough to be that for me when I showed up at his place a month ago." She shook her head before stepping for her door, "Besides, I was still married, and I don't think Lance is into sleeping with married women."

"But what about now?" Matt asked glancing at where Michael still lay sprawled on the floor, though now apparently unconscious, making sure the man wasn't about to be a problem. "I mean, you're not married now, Lance certainly seems to like you again, and you'll be living with him for awhile."

"Guys, as cute as it is that you're trying to hook us up, I don't want to date anyone right now, and I'm pretty sure Lance knows that. I especially don't want to screw up our friendship again by launching into a rebound relationship with him." Anna glanced around with a small smile when they mumbled apologies for pushing her. "Maybe someday—he certainly is a much more mature sweetheart now than when we were nineteen—but not right now."

Natalie nodded with a smile before clearing her throat and clapping her hands. "Alright, let's get this done. Anna, you go clear out your bedroom, Matt and I will track down wherever your weapons and armors ended up in storage."

"Grab my old bedquilts and the throw blanket while you're down there," Anna called over her shoulder. "I hand-sewed those, and I'd like to keep them."

Once alone in the bedroom, Anna let her expression fall, and sank to sit on the bed as she let out a shuddering sigh. Adrenalin drained out of her leaving her almost shaky as everything suddenly hit her hard: she had stood up to her abuser, gotten out from under his thumb, and was heading to a new chapter in her life back with her friends. Lance would support her, she was fairly sure, and Matt and Natalie would probably be checking in compulsively to be sure she was fine. Eventually, she'd have to figure out about where she would live now since Greenwood was right out for as long as Michael stayed here. Even getting a new house on the far side of the village would be too close to him for comfort, and he had as much right to be here as she did, as a natural citizen.

"A problem for the future," she decided quietly as she raised her head to look around the room.

It was comfortably furnished, decorated in soft browns and greens, but she didn't much like it. Here was where some of her worst breaking had happened, and she didn't particularly want to keep any part of it in her life. And so, all she eventually ended up packing were her clothes, a couple of towels, and her personal hygiene items.

It was as she was emptying a drawer of hair ties and clips that her eyes fell on a photograph of her and Michael, and she reached out to pick it up to study. It had been taken a week or so before he'd proposed to her, and she looked blissfully happy with his arm around her waist. Her eyes practically glittered as she looked up with a soft blush at the man holding her, and he'd looked equally content. How had things gone so sour from that point in time to where they were now? She doubted she had just somehow missed that he wasn't actually a good man the whole two years that they'd been dating, and she was certain he hadn't displayed any of the controlling tendencies he'd developed. He'd been a stable man from her home town, with many of the same interests and skills as herself, and a respected member of the community. Yet something had to have been wrong, because Lance had picked up on it immediately, and had just as immediately disliked him. The gunner had always been more in-tune to people's intentions than anyone else on their team. Had there been something in the way he'd spoken or moved that had tipped Lance off? Why hadn't she trusted his instincts?

Anna set the photo face down on the dresser with a troubled frown and turned away. It was over and done with, she tried to convince herself as she headed back to the main room to wait for Matt and Natalie to quit thumping around in the basement. Michael was awake and staring at her when she returned, and she froze as she met his accusing eyes.

"Why?" he rasped tightly. "You were supposed to love me..."

"I did love you, and you were supposed to love me," Anna replied quietly. "And maybe you did, once, but you don't anymore, just like I don't love you anymore."

"I took care of you!" Michael hissed.

"Not in the ways you should have," Anna refuted. "Taking care of someone doesn't mean locking them up and keeping them from the things they love. And love isn't blaming them for every little thing that went wrong, and it certainly isn't coming home drunk to berate, belittle, hit, and... rape... them. I think all you love about me now is the idea that you owned me. And I... I don't feel anything positive for you now. I'm sorry we didn't work out like we'd hoped and thought we would, but I'm not sorry for leaving."

"Don't lie to me, you've been sleeping with that maniac for years now, you whore!"

Anna watched the man practically spitting in his hatred and rage, and shook her head at the pathetic shell he had become. "Lance is a good friend, but I've never once loved him or slept with him. And the fact that you can so easily call me a whore just further proves that you don't really love me."

Her calm words and serene expression seemed to drive the man further into rage; enough of one to forget the agony of his dislocated arms as he sat up to scream abuses at her. Anna tuned him out, letting the words he'd shouted so many times before wash over and around her, but no longer taking them in. Rapid footsteps thudded up the stairs and both Matt and Natalie appeared in the room to gape at the sight of a maddened Michael screaming at a stone-faced Anna. And then the woman turned, in the middle of his tirade, and murmured a goodbye before leaving the house for the last time.

Lana and Lance were waiting at the edge of her clearing, and both their gazes narrowed at the sudden onslaught of noise and curses that cut off when Anna calmly shut the door. Lance crossed the clearing in three strides to touch Anna's shoulder with a concerned expression, only to relax when she gave him a weary, but reassuring smile and shook her head to say she was fine. Still, he wrapped a comforting arm around her slumped shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

"Told him off?" he guessed quietly.

"Yeah. I... needed to get that off my chest, and I'm glad I did it now so I never have to see him again," Anna said just as softly before turning her eyes to Lana and dipping her head slightly. "Hi, Lana. Sorry about my- about Michael. He's not taking the loss so well."

"There is no need to explain, Lance has already informed me of what has happened and been happening," Lana replied grimly and she stepped forwards to pull Anna into a warm, comforting embrace. Her voice fell so that only Anna would hear. "I am proud of you for finding help and for getting out, and I am sorry that my ailing health has prevented me from seeing you were suffering and needed guidance."

Anna shook her head and stood back. "I don't blame you or anyone else for what that... that man has done. I'm going to live with Lance for awhile, but I promise I'll come visit soon."

Lana nodded with a gleam in her eyes as she cast a look at where Lance was patiently waiting a few feet away. "So I have been told. Greenwood will take care of Michael, do not worry. Focus on finding yourself and getting back to where you want to be."

"I will. See you soon."

Lana gave a slow, stiff bow, her bones and joints protesting the movement before she turned to the door and slipped inside. A few moments later saw Matt and Natalie emerging, both holding two boxes of belongings, each, and the reunited team set off for Lance's home.

 **OOOOOO**

"You've got the wiring backwards," Lance explained as he scribbled a few arrows on a diagram beside the simple contraption. "If the flow of electricity is going backwards, then the blades are going to run backwards. Not really helpful for a stand fan."

Anna frowned at the drawing, and then at the box filled with wires, gears, and a battery. "Couldn't I just turn the battery around?"

"Sure, for something this simple, but you should do it the right way now to start setting a habit for the future."

Anna gave an exaggerated sigh and turned the soldering gun back on before she began unhooking wires. It had been almost six months since she'd moved in with Lance, and it had been a very productive time for her. Lance had been more than willing to help her get back into fighting form and follow her on hunts in the mountains, and he'd been just pushy enough to keep her from slipping into depressive habits, but not so pushy as to be a nuisance or a bad reminder. And now, with the passes filled with the heavy snow of winter and storms happening every other day, he'd taken to teaching her about wiring and electronics, to keep her entertained and engaged. She had to admit that it was kind of fun to learn new skills, and she liked the extended time he spent tutoring her; he seemed genuinely excited and pleased with her interest, too.

"Matt and Natalie are coming by tonight," Lance told her conversationally from where he was hunched over a computer across the room, tapping out some code.

"Yeah, you said yesterday. Crummy weather to be hiking in, but it'll be nice to see them again," Anna replied distractedly. She stuck the tip of her tongue through her teeth in concentration as she began melting some solder to secure a couple wires together before setting the gun aside to consult her diagram again. "So I've grounded the battery, redone the wires, and hooked up the spoke thingy that connects the fan to the gears."

"Rotor shaft, not spoke thingy," Lance snorted without looking up. "Now you've got to tighten the screws so the fan blades don't come loose and fly off when they start spinning. Don't tighten them too far, or you'll strip the screws and their beds."

A few minutes passed before Anna announced, "All tightened. Now I wire the battery to the switch, right?"

"Mmhmm... And why are we waiting to hook the switch up last?"

"So I don't accidentally turn it on and get my hair caught in it, or something?" Anna guessed with a considering frown. She had already pulled her hair back to keep it out of the way as she worked.

"Or something," Lance agreed with a faint smile. "With a device this small and simple, nothing really bad could happen, but if you were making an explosive or something running with high voltage, you wouldn't want to accidentally turn it on mid-process. I'll teach you more about stopgaps and safeguards on a more complicated project, later."

Anna nodded eagerly, already looking forward to learning more, and once she'd finished wiring and Lance had checked everything, she flipped the switch. The device hummed to life, and the fan began spinning, gaining speed until a pleasant breeze began blowing. Lance clapped a hand to her shoulder as she beamed a proud smile at her work.

"Baby's first doom device," she joked as she leaned back in her chair and tilted her head back to grin up at Lance.

"A fan is hardly a doom device," Lance chuckled with a shake of his head. "Go set it in your room, and then let's get started on that roast. I'm sure Matt and Natalie will be starving when they get here."

"I'll make a fresh loaf to go with it," Anna suggested as she stood up and stretched her arms over her head.

"Do the thing with the apples—that's really good."

Anna grinned at the eagerness in his voice and promised to add apple chunks to the dough as she headed off to her room. By the time she'd set her fan on the low table beside her reading chair and had washed up, Lance had already set the ham roast in the oven to slow cook, and was now washing the vegetables for a salad. Anna took up a place at the counter not far away and began sifting flour, salt, and other dry ingredients into a bowl before adding water and yeast, and finally kneading and working the dough. The last step involved folding some sliced pieces of apple into the dough before dusting the top with sugar and sliding the dough onto a floured stone platter and into the second oven.

Lance had long since finished his tasks for the food, including throwing together the salad, making up a dressing, and mashing some potatoes. Now he was leaning against the doorframe, watching Anna and sipping at a glass of water. Six months of recuperation had done wonders for the ranger, and she was more or less back to where she had been before, which was why Matt and Natalie were coming to visit. The evening was a celebration—an anniversary of sorts—of six months of no Michael, and six months of healthy progress.

It hadn't been an easy recovery for Anna by far. Between lingering guilt of somehow being responsible for how everything had fallen out, nightmares of her ex coming to get her, and slumps of feeling worthless, she had been stretched in every negative direction. Luckily for her, Lance had been a constant, steady, somewhat sarcastic support, and Matt and Natalie had cheered her on each step of the way. And the isolation of Lance's home had given her the distance from gossip and people that she'd needed to not feel judged as she worked her skills back up.

"I was thinking, if I'm going to keep living here, I should probably pay rent," Anna suddenly told Lance as she washed her hands.

Lance blinked back to the present and he cocked his head. "Sure, if you want, but I don't really need the money. Besides, you've been doing enough around the house to have more than earned your keep. The yard alone is going to be more than enough, come spring."

Anna turned around to meet his eyes, drying her hands on a dish towel. "You really don't mind having me here," she noted in a wondering tone.

"Uh, duh. You're not nearly as noisy or destructive as Matt, and Natalie would castrate me within a week for even half of the comments I throw around," Lance snorted with a smirk. He stood off the wall and shook his head as his smirk softened into a real smile. "Nah, you're kinda the ideal roommate. You clean up after yourself, you do some cooking and chores, and you're a good conversationalist. It's been nice having you here, and I'd missed you during those four years."

"You've been doing a lot for me, too, though," Anna pointed out softly with a shy smile. "You took me in without question when I first showed up, got me out of an abusive relationship, and helped me out of the rut he'd stuck me in. And I can never thank you enough."

"Don't fall for another abusive asshole, and we'll call it even," Lance dismissed easily as he turned away to hide a light blush.

Anna's smile widened as she trailed after him. "That shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Just something I banged out at 3am when I was supposed to be sleeping. It's a lot more domestic than I usually do, I think, but I really like it. It's pretty much finished as is, but I may add another chapter, so to speak, with a more firmly romantic touch to it. Luckily for me, it didn't remove all my italics this time. No idea why not, but I am not complaining! Anyway, usual stuff applies: point out dingdong typos, and leave me a review!_

 _Responses to guest reviewers:_

 _ **Anonymous** : Maple is best bit character. :3_

 _As for the beta, I played it religiously for a week when it first came out as private. Now, I'm trying to resist going back and playing the updates until the game comes out for real. It shouldn't be much longer, but I want it now... I already have so many ideas for novelizing it. ;D_

 _ **Little Follower** : I went back to look at Anna's introduction, and you're right. I'll have to go back and change that, make it much less obvious as to who's following Erick—maybe add in some more anxiety in his thoughts. As for the currently missing review, I assume part of it was about some of the egregious typos I saw last time I read through it. I fixed a couple, but I know there's one case of fused words that I couldn't find in the editing document. I'll go back and get any others you pointed out whenever the review comes through._

 _ **Jason** : You, uh, get the medal for most reviews on a single chapter. (^_^;) It may be worthwhile to you to make an account if you want to have an extended discussion about EBF5's beta, though I'm glad you've played through it and it's won you over. I'm, personally, excited about the changes and additions to the characters, and can't wait to write for them! I likely won't be leaving the EBF fandom for quite some time, yet!_

 _i will not be making Anna part elemental as that would ruin my current plot (and honestly would fall under bestialty in the EBF universe), nor will I be changing my lore for Greenwood in Gaea. Part of the reason Greenwood's documents on lineages are so thorough and complete is to avoid inbreeding issues—Lance is just being Lance when he says 'disgustingly inbred', not stating a true fact. They are all rather closely related to each other, as one would expect from an isolated community, but they aren't boning siblings/cousins/parents/aunts as you seem to be concerned about. Nah, if you want to be grossed out by inbred families, go look at the British royal family tree: the thing is practically a net *shivers*. Natalie is not a hybrid, per say, but I haven't decided quite what's up with her just yet (leaning towards something like mutations as of right now). Lance is just human, and NoLegs is just a cat, though I don't think he's in the story at all._

 _ **Guestatron 2000** : If **Jason** wins the most reviews medal, then you win the best guest name medal and best opening sentence medal! XD_

 _I'm really glad to hear another person likes my writing so much! It makes me feel a little less self-conscious about sinking so much time, effort, and so many words into such a niche fandom. :P The world and character building has been my favorite parts of sitting so far, followed closely by banter, so I'm especially glad that those are some of e things you've liked the most! And thank you for your supportive words! I wish I could properly express how much it means to me to hear/read them!_

 _ **Miles or Arrow** : I'm very proud of Gaea—it's one of my very favorites so far. :3 I'll keep chugging away at the mess called emotions, and will hopefully call myself out of the tangle of them to come out better for it!_


	15. Reincarnation (T)

**Title** : Reincarnation

 **Genre** : Friendship

 **Rating** : T

 **Warnings** : mild language

 **Pairings** : Lance x Anna, mild Matt x Natalie

* * *

" _This is cruel_."

The thought was more bitter than he'd ever expected it would be—more hot and angry—though his eyes didn't betray that feeling, nor the way his chest ached. Certainly, the woman standing before him had no clue what he was thinking as she bowed and offered a stumbling apology with the items she'd knocked from his arms held out to him. Matt's fingers twitched with the urge to make her stand upright; his throat moved against the words of assuring her she had never needed to apologize to him. He would look insane, or like he was coming onto her. She couldn't ever understand that he would be talking to someone who had been dead for centuries.

" _But, gods, it's like Natalie's come back from the dead_ ," Matt thought with a flash of utter sorrow. He swallowed that back, too, and offered a grin. "Don't worry about it. I probably shouldn't have been looking down while I was walking, anyway. Are you alright? You hit the ground pretty hard."

The woman—not Natalie, never again Natalie—gave him a wry smile as she rubbed her hip. "It's a bruise for sure. Serves me right for oversleeping, I guess."

Matt offered another smile—slightly wider, and more bittersweet. This Natalie lookalike even overslept like the late mage did. "Missed setting the alarm, huh? Well, don't let me keep you from... wherever it is you're supposed to be right now."

"Crap, that's right! I was supposed to be in class ten minutes ago!" The woman yelped with a glance at her watch. She took off running with a final call over her shoulder, "Sorry for bumping into you!"

Matt remained standing where he was, staring after the young woman long after she whipped around a corner and out of sight. For the first time in a long while, he felt the many years weighing heavily. How long had it been since he'd buried his friends? Five hundred years? Seven, maybe? Longer? He felt ashamed for having lost track. He felt even more shame upon realizing that he'd forgotten so much of what Natalie's face had looked like until seeing someone who looked so much like her. Had she always had that ring of green around her pupils, the splash of light freckles across her nose? Surely she hadn't been that much shorter than him?

Shaking himself, he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and continued walking down the path. It wouldn't do him any good to dwell again. He wasn't like his friends—he never had been, and never would be. He rode the currents of time far differently from them, and while they had understood that, and he thought he had, too, it hadn't been until the years stacked so painfully high that he truly understood what it meant. Living longer meant seeing more. It meant building more memories before being forced to give them up. Natalie had died. Lance had died. Anna had died. Everyone he'd ever learned the names of after them had died. He hadn't, which was why he'd quit interacting with people.

"Gods, what would Lance say if he saw me moping so impractically," Matt muttered to himself.

He couldn't remember the gunner's voice any more than he could remember his face, but he imagined there would be some sort of sarcasm, and maybe a jab at how thinking wasn't his strong suit. Matt's eyes narrowed in intense thought as he struggled to remember anything else about the long-dead, prickly man whom had always had his back.

"Red eyes? Yeah, pretty sure he had red eyes—his hair was red, too, but was it long? Short? Maybe curly...? No, definitely not curly. We were outside a lot, so he probably had tanned skin..." Matt murmured under his breath before shrugging the thought away with the guilt. He wouldn't remember without a vision of Lance reincarnating before him, too. He snorted at the thought. "Clearly, it's time to visit the graves again, if I'm stuck dwelling and dreaming."

Still, he couldn't quite keep his shoulders from slumping as he trudged towards his home.

 **OOOOOO**

"I definitely need to review that last part about transmutation," Natalie muttered to herself as she frowned at her notes.

"Why bother? It's not like it'll be on the exam—Professor V even said it wouldn't," a cheerful voice laughed on her left.

Natalie briefly glanced over with a crooked grin at her friend. "Yeah, well not all of us are going into trade, Anna. It may not be on this exam, but it might be on the final, or important in a later year."

Anna rolled her eyes with a yawn. "I highly doubt mythology is going to be super important in your life. I mean, really. All his talk of fire flying from fingertips and sticks, giant beasties eating people whole, a race of cats with no legs ruled by a vicious cat god? It's a bedtime story. I half expect the board to make him retire for his mental health, the way he raves about that stuff like it's all fact."

"Maybe the fact that they don't means it is true?" Natalie suggested mildly as she shrugged her bag around to tuck her notes away.

"And the fact that he's, like, a gazillion years old with no surviving family to spend his time with has nothing to do with it," Anna countered in a droll tone. She nudged the other woman's shoulder before trotting off, "See you after classes?"

"Same place as always—try not to bring the creepy stalker this time," Natalie called back with a smile.

Her lips soon fell as she headed to her own next class. Logically, she knew Anna was right: magic couldn't exist. It defied all the known and tried laws of science, physics, and reason. One couldn't create matter from nothing—so many problems wouldn't be problems if that weren't true. Yet somewhere in her heart, she clung with a childish desperation for fact to be fiction and fiction to become fact. All her life, she'd dreamt of strange places and creatures, her fingers performing complicated spells, and a thrumming power springing forth. Half the time, she found herself wondering if maybe what she was doing _now_ was the dream, and not the other way around.

With a self-deprecating huff, she shook her head back to the present where she was sitting at a desk, and turned her eyes to the board with a pen in hand.

 **OOOOOO**

"...And then Lance, the bastard, tried to blame _me_ for the spilled chemicals! Which was really stupid because half the class was watching him be a creep, so they saw him accidentally shove the cart," Anna chattered with a light of irritation in her eyes.

Natalie listened in amusement with her cheek resting on one hand and the straw for her milkshake stuck in her mouth. "You know, if you'd quit flushing and reacting when he hits on you, he'd probably quit it," she offered mildly for what felt like the hundredth time that year.

"He is not _hitting on_ me! He's _harassing_ me!"

"And yet you don't ever actually do anything to stop him," Natalie, noted in a singsong voice with a widening smile. "~Anna and Lance sitting in a tree..."

"Ugh. Ew. Gross. No."

Natalie leaned forwards with the largest grin yet. "Is that a blush I see? I think it is!"

"You are _impossible_ ," Anna groaned in defeat, burying her face in her arms.

"Only when I'm right. And speaking of being right, you've been blushing almost since before you walked in here. So, spill: has he asked you out, yet?" Natalie asked as she leaned back to slurp the remainder of her drink. She nearly choked on it when Anna's flush darkened so much that her ears, still visible with her face hidden, turned red. "Oo, I'm picking up a ton of vibes right now, Anna..."

"He did, ah, ask if I was free to study at the cafe Friday evening," Anna admitted in a squeak.

Natalie's grin widened so far her cheeks were aching. "Uh, huh. Definitely not hitting on you. So are you going to go?"

Anna finally raised her head, her cheeks still pink, and unable to quite meet Natalie's eyes. "I dunno, yet. I told him I had to check my schedule. He gave me his number to shoot him a message later."

"Do you want to go?"

"I mean, it couldn't hurt," Anna mumbled. "We're just going to drink some tea, or coffee, or something, and review the notes."

"With an evening kiss on the cheek when you're done, right?"

Anna fixed her friend with a deadpan look. "You need to get out more. You're taking way more interest and excitement in this than I am."

Natalie laughed, conceding the point, but still unable to resist one final prod, "Ah, but why would I do that when you provide all the drama for me?" Her smile shrank some as she leaned forwards in a more business like manner. "What do you think about Lance? I mean, he must be interested in you if he's taking you out for coffee, under guise of studying or not. Guys just don't do that if they aren't interested. But you shouldn't string him along if you aren't interested in him like that."

"He's cute, I'll give him that, and he can be pretty funny and witty," Anna admitted, turning her head to look out the window and study the low hanging clouds. "I've never really thought about dating anyone, much less Lance. I suppose I could do a lot worse than him, and he has to be pretty smart if he's an international engineering champion."

Natalie's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "He's a _what_? This is the first I'm hearing of that."

"He told me back when we first got partnered in lab—right along with saying I looked like I wouldn't know what to do with a hammer and a nail," Anna explained with a roll of her eyes. "The teacher certainly expects him to know all the answers, and he hasn't screwed up yet, so I'm inclined to believe him."

"Weird that he's going to a small town college like the rest of us average intelligence citizens," Natalie thoughtfully mused to herself. She shook her head before briskly stating, "Well, you think he looks good, that he's funny, interesting, and smart, and he certainly keeps you entertained, so you might as well give a date a try. Worst thing that happens is it doesn't work out but you get some extra study time in."

"What do I even say to a guy on a date? And I'm still not wholly convinced that that's what this is," Anna wondered aloud.

Natalie shrugged. "Don't look at me. I've never dated. I'd say just be you, ask a little about him, don't follow him to his place for a night of wild sex, and see if he asks for a follow up date. Shoot me a text when you get there, leave, and get home, though."

"Yes, mom, I shall be sure to also tell you when I've finished brushing my teeth before my bedtime at nine," Anna drawled.

"Just being cautious. I doubt Lance would do anything, but it'll be late when you leave. And speaking of it being late, we're getting the side eye from the guy behind the counter. I think two milkshakes isn't enough of an offering to the lords for a table here," Natalie said as she slid her chair back to stand up and waved to the impatient teen manning the front desk.

Out on the street, both women shivered and pulled their hoods up as the brisk late autumn wind blew past bringing the scent of rain. They hurried down the street in near silence, already looking forwards to the warm beds in their dorms. Neither one noticed the shadow watching them in dumbstruck awe and confusion from a nearby alley, as he'd been since he'd first spied them in the shop on his way back from a bar.

"Alright, one was bad enough, but two of them? And they're friends?" Matt breathed.

Against all his better judgement and reason, he began to wonder if there had been truth to the old legends of reincarnation. And if Natalie and Anna were there, then maybe Lance was, too? His excitement wilted as he recalled "Natalie's" reaction to bumping into him that morning: she hadn't recognized him at all. He didn't even know what their names were, what their lives had been like, if they even had the same personalities as before. Only one thing was for sure: Natalie hadn't known him. And if _Natalie_ hadn't known him, then neither would Anna and Lance, if he was indeed around. Even if they were the same souls, they were now different people, and it wasn't right to influence their lives just because he was yearning for something that had died when their ancestors had been ancient. Besides, he'd just outlive them again, anyway, and seeing them grow old and die had been bad enough once.

Two days later, and he was beginning to think he'd have to move to escape Godcat mocking him. Still, he bent to offer a hand to "Natalie" knocked back on her butt again. He couldn't bring himself to ignore her and keep walking—not when she looked so much like his old friend.

"Deja vu, huh? Forgot your alarm again?"

Natalie blinked up at the man leaning over her and her eyes widened as she let out a short laugh. "What are the odds? And, no, just out for a walk," She accepted his hand and was pulled to her feet where she dusted her pants off before holding her right hand out with a smile. "At least I didn't knock your groceries all over the ground again, though. Might as well exchange names if this is going to become a biweekly crashing."

Matt inwardly sighed, but accepted her handshake. "Matt, and I'll be sure to step aside next time." He couldn't resist the flip his stomach made when she smiled in amusement at him, and when she told him her name, his heart stopped.

"Natalie, the girl who can't get her head out of the clouds long enough to pay attention where she's walking." Natalie's smile faded when Matt merely gaped at her like he'd seen a ghost. "Er, you okay?" She frowned when he pulled his hand back like he'd been shocked. "Rude."

"Sorry, I just- You look a lot like someone I knew... a long time ago. Even have the same name. Weird, huh?" Matt laughed nervously, though his eyes remained looking a little haunted.

"Really? Maybe we've met before?" Natalie suggested skeptically as she studied his face. "I think I'd remember that bright of hair, but I just..."

Her voice trailed off as her eyes went distant in puzzled thought, and Matt held his breath. Guiltily, he hoped maybe she'd remember him. For the sake of simplicity and not getting hurt more, he hoped she didn't. How the hell could he explain everything to her if she remembered only bits and pieces—or even if she remembered everything?

"You look... really familiar, but I don't think..." Natalie murmured quietly with a distressed look on her face.

"Well, you did quite literally run into me two days ago," Matt pointed out in an effort to keep her from trying to remember him.

"Yes, but I feel like I _know_ you, and I'm sure I've never met you before in my life."

" _In another life, maybe?_ " Matt thought wistfully. What he said instead was, "Where did you grow up? Maybe you remember me from there?"

"A small town about four hours driving west of here called Brookshire," Natalie replied promptly.

"Hmm, nowhere close to where I'm from," Matt laughed quietly and truthfully. "Well, sometimes people get those weird feelings. I'll let you get on with your walk."

"Wait," Natalie suddenly said when Matt turned away. "Why don't you walk with me? I was thinking of going to the bakery for breakfast, my treat."

Matt hesitated, knowing he should cut this short here, but he brushed that warning voice off. Just because this wasn't really _his_ Natalie didn't mean he had to be rude or that they couldn't be friendly. "Sure, but I insist on paying."

Natalie's responding smile was brilliant and Matt felt like she'd sucker punched him. But it was too late to back out now and he followed alongside her into town. Twenty minutes later saw them sitting at a booth with food and drink before them and Natalie chattering about the classes she was taking while Matt listened dutifully.

"What classes are you taking? I haven't seen you on campus at all," Natalie suddenly asked.

Matt blinked in surprise before shrugging, "I'm not in school. Finished it ages ago, I guess you could say."

"You can't be that much older than me," Natalie refuted skeptically, and she didn't understand why that made Matt laugh in such a sad way.

"No, I guess I don't look like someone who's already finished college, huh?" Matt replied evasively while he mentally scrambled to come up with a cover story to explain his living. He doubted saying he lived off of a massive hoard of gold coins won from the corpses of dragons and monsters would be accepted, and he didn't have a real job anymore.

"No, you don't," Natalie slowly agreed with a suspicious look in her eyes.

"...I went to trade school when I was young," Matt finally said. "It paid really well and now I'm between jobs, I guess you could say."

Not exactly a lie. He'd been apprenticed to a blacksmith at a young age before he'd picked up sword fighting, and itinerant adventurer was kind of like a job, right? And he didn't have some pressing mission or quest right now—hadn't in the last couple hundred years, if he were honest—so he was _technically_ between jobs.

"Oh, what do you do?" Natalie asked curiously.

"Odd jobs, mostly, now. I'm pretty handy. The work dries up in the winter, though." Matt gestured at her before shifting the focus of the conversation back to her. "What do you plan on doing with your life?"

"Well, I really like my historical mythology courses, but... I'm not sure there are a lot of openings for wanting to study myths my whole life. I'm pretty good at the biology courses, so maybe something in the science field. I don't really know for sure, yet, I guess."

"Just make sure you can at least tolerate whatever you end up doing, and you can always change your mind down the road," Matt suggested as he raised his drink to sip it. A few minutes passed in silence before he pushed his chair back. "Well, this was a nice change of pace. See you around, I guess, Natz." He froze at the slip of the tongue and prayed she wouldn't notice. Of course, there was no such luck.

"Natz?" Natalie repeated in flustered amusement. "I've barely known you for an hour and you're giving me a pet name?"

Matt flushed pink and mumbled an apology before leaving the bakery—and it was definitely just leaving, not fleeing. Outside, he ran straight into "Anna," and figured his day couldn't get too much worse.

"Oh, sorry," the young woman apologized as she reached out to steady Matt.

"It's fine," Matt muttered, already edging around her. He was _not_ going to stick around for another awkward conversation. Godcat laughed at him from whatever plane of existence she dwelled on when Natalie spoke up behind him.

"Maybe it's been you running into me and not the other way around, Matt. How're you doing, Anna? Here for your morning muffins?"

"Matt?" Anna repeated in a strange voice with an equally strange look at the man. Her eyes widened in shocked recognition, and she blurted out, "I saw you last night!"

Natalie's brows rose. "You, what?"

At the same moment, Matt said, "I think you've got me mixed up with someone else. Good day."

Neither woman stopped him as he walked away, but Natalie was grinning at her friend.

"Already cheating on Lance before your first date? Tsk, tsk, Anna." When the other woman remained silent and staring after Matt with a stunned expression, she frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I- I had a dream about him. Matt you called him? You were there, too, and Lance," Anna finally replied in a low tone.

"I don't wanna hear about your weird dreams," Natalie warned.

"Not like that, perv," Anna snorted. "We were fighting a bunch of weird creatures. It was so vivid, too, like I could feel the heat of the fire breath as it flew past."

Natalie stiffened at that. "You've dreamt of fighting monsters, too?"

"Yeah, almost every night since- Wait, what do you mean 'too?'"

Natalie frowned in thought. "I wonder if Matt has had dreams like that, too. He gave me a super weird look when I told him my name, like he'd seen a ghost. He tried to pass it off as some kind of resemblance, but now..."

Both woman stood there looking at each other before an irritated cough from someone wanting to enter the bakery startled them back to awareness. They quickly stepped aside with an apology and set off down the street.

"You think Lance has had the dreams, too?" Anna wondered. "I mean, three cases seems like too many to be a coincidence."

"Even if he has, what does it mean? The things I've dreamt don't exist anywhere..."

Anna shrugged before obviously trying to put it from her mind. "I'll try to bring it up with Lance tonight, see what he has to say. Maybe we've just been studying too hard or something."

"That'll be a weird icebreaker," Natalie laughed. "Speaking of your impending date, what're you going to be wearing? And don't say what you've got on right now."

"Thought you said to act like myself?" Anna muttered mutinously, having been planning to dress exactly as Natalie had refused.

"You have _got_ to have something a little nicer than a worn out cartoon tee and beat up jeans. I know a dress would be asking too much, but surely you've got _something_."

 **OOOOOO**

"I'm never letting Natalie drag me to her closet ever again," Anna grumbled.

She stood just inside the cafe Lance had suggested meeting at, wearing a long black skirt with an emerald green blouse with low neckline, both borrowed from her friend. A light jacket went on over the top for warmth and cover, but Anna still felt uncomfortably exposed. This wasn't her style at all, and she could only be glad she'd refused to wear the make up Natalie had suggested. Her hand fiddled with the strap to her shoulder bag as she scanned up and down the street for her "date."

"Wow, you're all gussied up."

Anna jumped at Lance's voice from directly behind her and spun to see the man leaning just inside the second entrance. He'd worn a fresh-pressed yellow shirt with buttons up the middle, and black slacks—relaxed enough to be normal, but definitely more cleaned up than she'd ever seen him. Anna wondered if maybe he had an annoying friend who had pushed him to dress up, too.

Lance arched a brow when all Anna did was stare at him, and he cracked a half smirk. "C'mon, I got us a table already."

He held the door open and waved Anna through and followed after to lead her to their booth in the corner. Anna's movements were stiff as she slid into the seat and awkwardly straightened her skirt before slipping her bag's strap over her head to set beside her. By contrast, Lance looked perfectly composed as he smoothly sat down on his own side and dragged the small tablet over to order.

"Coffee, or would you like something else?" he asked.

"I'd like to _be_ somewhere else," Anna blurted out before slapping a hand over her mouth with a flush and mumbling, "Sweet tea, please?"

Something akin to disappointment crossed Lance's face before he brushed it away to cover up with a smirk. "I'm not going to eat you, you know. You can calm down."

"I know that!" Anna squeaked, growing more mortified and red by the second. She couldn't quite meet Lance's eyes as she asked, "So, uh, you wanted to... to study? Did you have a topic in mind? Chapter twelve was kinda tricky, but I took some good notes in class, and the professor gave me a study sheet, and-"

"Deep breaths, Anna," Lance suggested before grinning teasingly. "Geez, anyone would think you've never talked to a guy before."

"I have! Just not in a coffee shop... after dark... while dressed up... And Natalie, er, talked this up, and..." Anna cut herself off when she realized she was babbling again and slumped to bury her face in her arms. "...Am I dead, yet?"

"Mm, no. Clearly something wants you to suffer a little longer," Lance replied in amusement. His expression became more serious as he offered, "We can cut this off now, if you're that uncomfortable."

"Feel free. I'm clearly not up to this," Anna mumbled, her voice muffled in the table.

Lance's expression fell and he let his eyes drift to the side. He'd thought maybe Anna would be amendable to a date or two, but if just sitting and talking to him made her so uncomfortable... Who was he kidding? Everyone hated talking to him, why would Anna be any different? Just because she responded to his jokes and jabs in class didn't mean she was any more comfortable talking to him than anyone else ever had been—she just had more of a backbone.

"...Let's just get our drinks and go," he murmured.

Anna lifted her head up enough to peek up at Lance. He sounded defeated in some way, and was now checking his phone. Any of the suave joking he'd been doing before had vanished, leaving him looking tired. His shoulders were slumped ever so slightly and his mouth and eyes were tighter at the corners than usual. It suddenly occurred to her that he must have been looking forwards to this date, and she'd ruined it by melting down like she had.

"No, let's see this through," she offered, sitting up straight. "I'll quit freaking on you...

Probably."

Lance briefly glanced up from his phone before looking down with a sigh and setting the device aside, face down. "...You were saying something about chapter twelve?" he asked in a level voice.

Anna's lips pursed as she realized he was turning their date into an actual study session, and while that gave her an easy out, she decided she didn't want that. That meant she needed to derail that path entirely. "I had a weird dream the other day. A bunch, recently, actually. Probably too much studying; it'd be nice to take a break from it for a little while. Natalie is too much of a study bug to really relax while the semester is still in session, and I don't really know anyone else around here. So thanks for inviting me out."

"Really? I thought you were a local?" Lance asked in surprise. Their drinks arrived, but he hardly noticed even as he reached out to pick up his coffee.

"Nah, I'm a country bumpkin. I'm just here for the schooling because my parents insisted," Anna admitted with a wry grin. She stuck her nose up slightly and started doing a poor imitation of her father. "' _Carving doesn't get you retirement pay, and arthritis will keep you from carving 'til you die, so go learn a book. You've already wasted half your life running wild in the woods like some kind of hooligan, and it's time to really grow up_.' Or something like that, anyway."

Lance started laughing. "Wow, and I thought _I_ had downers raising me! You're not even twenty-one and he's planning for your old age!"

Anna shrugged slightly with a grin. "He's a worrywart is all, which is better than mom. She thinks I'm going to meet some guy to marry here. Neither of them went to college, so I don't think either of them really get what it's like being here. What about your parents? They must've really pushed you if you're already an international champion."

Lance snorted and shook his head. "Nah, I never knew them. I'm from the foster care system." He waved away Anna's wince and apology. "It's fine. I had a bed, food, and clothes, so nothing really to complain about. Would've been nice to not have to move every few years, I guess, but I met a lot of smart people who pointed me in the right direction."

Anna frowned slightly and opened her mouth to ask why he'd never gotten adopted, but shut it again when she realized that was an incredibly rude thing to ask. She opted to sip her tea instead and idly wiped the condensation droplets around on the table with one finger. "So you've been to a lot of places then? Where was your favorite?"

Before long, they were swapping stories of things they'd gotten up to as children, and more current interests. Lance ordered them a small plate of pastries to share, and it was while they were eating and he talked about owning a firm of his own someday that Anna remembered to ask about dreams.

"You've always dreamt big, then, huh?" she asked.

"I guess, yeah. Go big or go home, right? Though I suppose it must be nice to have a traditional occupation to fall back on. I'd like to see some of your carvings sometime.

"Sure, I'll load up some pictures on my phone to show you next class," Anna agreed cheerfully, derailed again. She glanced at her phone and blinked at the time. "Wow, it's gotten late fast. So much for studying, eh?"

Lance started and checked his own phone. "Crap, ten already? And I promised to be up early to help a buddy move..." He quickly swiped a card through the tablet to pay and stood up with a smile. "This was fun, Anna. Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for sticking through the horror of the first ten minutes," Anna joked as she shrugged her jacket on and slung her bag over her shoulder. "We should do this again sometime. No freaking out, promise."

Lance's smile grew, though his eyes glinted with mischief as he offered an arm. "I'll walk you home and we can talk on the way."

Anna eyed him suspiciously, but tucked her own arm through his with pink cheeks. Her flush darkened when he tugged close enough to be flush against his side and looped the arm he'd offered arm around her waist instead, and she rolled her eyes.

"I was wondering where you were this evening," she snorted, though without any real heat, and no struggle break free. She had to admit that Lance's chuckle sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

They walked in silence for several minutes before Lance spoke up again. "So, think you've relaxed enough for no weird dreams tonight?"

Anna smiled up at him. "Yeah, I think so, but I actually wanted to talk to you about those."

Lance looked down at her in surprise before he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Oo, I think I like where this is going..." He suffered Anna's jab against his side with a chuckle. "I'm all ears."

"For as long as I can remember, I've had these really vivid dreams," Anna admitted slowly, her eyes drifting back ahead. This was weird, she thought uneasily. Who started talking about literal childhood dreams on a first date? But when Lance merely hummed in reply, she relaxed and went on. "I... I saw you and Natalie in them, years before I met either of you. At first, when I met you and Natalie, I thought maybe I was convincing myself of some kind of deja vu, or making up memories that weren't really real. But then just a couple of days ago, I ran into another new guy who had always been in them, too, and Natalie says he'd had a weird reaction upon meeting her, and he did for me, too. Plus she admitted to having similar dreams."

Lance's footsteps slowed to a stop and he willingly let go of Anna when she pulled away to meet his eyes. His own mind was racing as he recalled dreams of his own where he'd been sure he'd seen Anna, but had similarly thought he'd retroactively placed her face in a memory of an old dream. "That... is really odd..."

"By your face, you either think I'm crazy, or you've had the same dreams," Anna decided uncertainly. She hesitated before betting on the latter. "What do you think? Could they mean something?"

Lance's brow furrowed in thought and he started walking again with Anna at his side. "I'd... almost forgotten about those dreams, though in hindsight maybe because I saw you in them was why I thought you'd be okay going on a date with me—you were familiar already, anyway. But even if they do mean something, what does it mean for us? Does it matter? I mean, I'm a good shot with a gun, but the stuff I remember doing in those dreams was insane. And I'm pretty sure dragons, and golems, and magic, and legless cats are fairytales."

"...Natalie doesn't seem to think so, but she's always been something of a dreamer for as long as I've known her," Anna murmured. "Maybe we should all meet up and talk about them? There could be some kind of common link to them all, like maybe we all were read the same bedtime story, or something."

Lance shrugged as they came to a stop outside the women's dorm. "I'm free all weekend, if you and Natalie want to meet up. How well do either of you know the other guy? What's his name?"

"Er, Natalie called him Matt, but I don't know how she knows him, and I only know him from running into him once. I'll ask her when I see her."

"Matt, huh...?" Lance repeated in a low murmur. His eyes flashed with thought at how familiar that name was before he blinked. Remembering could wait. "Well, you have my number. Give me a time and a place, and I'll be there."

"Wait!" Anna suddenly said just as Lance began to turn away. Her cheeks flushed and she looked down while she scuffed the ground with one foot. "About tonight... It was really fun, and I'd like to return the favor. There's this noodle place on the corner of Seventh and Ferndale that's nice and quiet on weekdays. Want to meet up for lunch there sometime?"

Lance's smile softened as he nodded. "Yeah, sounds fun. Wednesday work for you? My classes are over by ten that day."

Anna beamed as she nodded. "It's a... date, then. Good night, Lance. Have a safe walk home."

He nodded and turned to start walking off down the street again. Anna was sure her smile looked goofy, but she couldn't help it, even after her phone buzzed with a text from Natalie asking if she'd made it home, yet—with a heavy innuendo that she'd better not be "having fun" at Lance's place. Her responding message was sarcastic, but assured that she was fine as she headed up the stairs to her dorm for bed, still smiling.

Late the next morning saw the two women back at their favorite drink cafe, laughing over Anna's embarrassment the night before. Natalie smiled as she studied Anna's smiling face and lightly flushed cheeks. Her friend looked happy, and definitely deep into a crush, and she had to admit that it sounded like Lance had behaved surprisingly well, which Natalie privately admitted was surprising. He was well known for his crass, insensitive humor and misogynistic remarks, but it seemed his quieter reputation of respectfully sticking up for women in tough situations had some truth, too. He'd made a pass or two at Anna, but had taken her discomfort seriously and made an effort to accommodate, and had even volunteered to walk her back to her dorm since it had been so late.

"Well, sounds like you had a good time—good enough of one to be the instigator for the next date," Natalie finally said with a smile when Anna had fallen silent to grin at her drink.

"It was really awkward, at first, but, I dunno... He was nice, and okay with keeping going after I nearly ruined it," Anna admitted with a sigh. She let out a soft laugh and added, "It helped when I quit overthinking it so much and realized I was being silly."

Natalie nodded and sipped at her smoothie before looking out the window at the overcast sky. It definitely looked like rain later, and she sighed at the thought. Rainy days meant wet shoes and clothes, frizzy hair, and staying inside. Her thoughts turned, as they frequently had as of late, to Matt.

"I didn't see him on my walk today—Matt, I mean," Natalie murmured. "It's going to be hard to contact him if I don't know where he lives."

Anna shrugged the worry away. "He probably has some schedule he's following. Just take a walk at the same times you did this last week and you'll probably see him again. Lance said he's free this weekend to talk about our dreams, though, so we can start with just the three of us."

"So you actually brought them up with him?" Natalie asked with an arched brow. "And he didn't think you were crazy or weird?"

"No, he said he'd had them before, too, and that he'd recognized me from them. Dunno about you or Matt, but he did seem vaguely familiar with Matt's name and existence."

Natalie drummed her fingers on the table and began chewing on her straw in thought. It was certainly a start, and perhaps better this way. She hardly knew Matt, so inviting him to meet with two more near-or-complete strangers to talk about some mystical dream memory was a little extreme. She and Lance already had a passing acquaintance with each other from school over the last few years, and he and Anna were starting dating, so it would be far less awkward to meet up with him. They could see about reaching out to Matt if they didn't solve the mystery on their own.

"...Earth to Natalie! Come in, Natalie!" Anna called in exasperated amusement. She grinned when her friend jumped back to awareness, and nodded to the straw she'd mangled. "You've gnawed that to into fine art, and we're done eating, so why don't we go find a quiet corner at the library? I texted Lance and he said he could meet us there in twenty minutes."

"Sure, but I need to swing by my room to grab my umbrella," Natalie agreed as she stood up to throw out their trash.

"It won't kill you to get wet, you know. And besides, it's just supposed to be a drizzle."

"You wouldn't understand since your style is 'just rolled out of bed,' but my hair gets stupid when it gets wet, and I don't want to spend an hour detangling it again. Plus the rain tends to do awful stuff to my acne," Natalie huffed. "Besides, wet clothes feel gross."

"For someone not interested in dating, you sure are picky about your appearance," Anna dryly noted, and not for the first time.

"Excuse me for wanting to look good for myself," Natalie sniffed as they stepped outside.

"You're excused, Princess."

Natalie snorted at the nickname and led the way down the street to her dorm where they briefly stopped to pick up some clutter from her roommate. Anna gathered up many crumpled balls of paper while Natalie stacked dishes in the sink and scrawled a note that she wanted them washed. They left fifteen minutes later with two umbrellas to see a deceptively heavy misting rain had already begun to fall. Natalie arched a superior brow at Anna as they put up their umbrellas and she set out.

"We'd be soaked in a minute in this. Good thing one of us is smart, huh?"

"Yes, yes, I bow before your foresight," Anna sighed with a roll of her eyes. She squinted when a gust of wind blew some water into her face before she could adjust the umbrella to block it. "This a little heavier and windier than they were forecasting."

"The weathermen got the exacts of the weather wrong? I'm shocked," Natalie snorted as she reached one hand up to turn her jacket's collar up to tuck her nose behind. "Would be nice to be able to just control the weather—make it sunny and warm all the time."

"Good thing you can't. We'd all starve to death before the year's end because the plants dried up in the fields. But, hey, your hair and skin would look nice at your funeral."

Natalie elbowed her friend for the jab, but her lips were twitching trying to suppress a smile. Anna shoved her back before ducking away with a laughing protest when Natalie spun her umbrella to splatter her with water. Then a car drove past, sending a wave of water crashing over both of them, and they spluttered out curses, now soaked.

"Asshole!" Anna shouted after the driver as she pushed her sodden bangs from her eyes. Wryly, she folded her umbrella up. "Well, this isn't much use now, I guess."

Natalie scowled as she did the same to allow the rain wash some of the grit from the puddle off, muttering, "And we were only half a block from the library. Jerk. You're supposed to go slow in the rain. We'll be dripping for hours, now."

"Maybe we can borrow some towels from the gym next to the library," Anna sighed as she pushed the door open.

The librarian shot them a sour look before handing over several paper towels to dry their hands and faces. The two women offered meek apologies for the puddles they were spreading, and were waved off with an admonition to not touch the books with their soaked hands. Lance waited for them in a study nook in the far corner with his attention absorbed in a large textbook. A duffle bag sat on the floor beside him along with a heavy looking backpack. He glanced up at their arrival and his eyebrows flew up at their soaked appearances.

"They invented umbrellas for a reason, you know," he pointed out with a smirk as he set his book aside and reached for his bag.

"We had some, but it turns out they aren't infallible," Anna replied sourly. She blinked in surprise when he procured a couple of shirts and two pairs of sweats from his duffel bag.

"Here, go change in the bathroom," he offered calmly. "Don't worry, they're clean. I picked them up from the laundromat on my way here."

Even Natalie looked surprised by the offer, but she accepted the change of clothes with a mumbled thanks. Ten minutes later saw all three of them seated in the nook with the women's soaked clothes in an old grocery bag on the floor.

"Way too big, but dry," Anna noted with a grin as she pulled at the hem of her borrowed shirt. "Thanks, Lance, we owe you one. Now if only we had some spare shoes." And indeed, their sneakers were still waterlogged where they sat off to one side, but their feet covered in oversized black socks also borrowed from Lance.

Natalie looked a little more self-conscious, constantly adjusting the neckline, but she added her own thanks as well as a promise to wash and return them as soon as she could. Lance waved the concern off for the moment as he leaned forwards, settling into business.

"So, these dreams. Anna tells me you've had them, too, Natalie," he started with an interested expression.

"All my life," Natalie agreed with a tense smile.

"Same here, but I never really thought much of them until now," Anna echoed.

"I don't think they're natural," Lance announced after a few moments of silence. "The brain is impressively creative, but it can't generate faces without actually seeing them first, and I know I've never met either of you before college, and never anyone with Anna's hair color. I think even the monsters would be too much for it to come up with on its own, and their forms have always been remarkably similar with each dream. You could possibly make an excuse for picture books read to you as a kid, but I've never seen a picture book with such graphic imagery."

"Then what causes them?" Anna wondered. "I've never heard of three people sharing the same dream... hallucination... vision... whatever."

"Four, if this Matt guy has had them, too," Lance corrected before glancing down the row of shelves beside them. "Speaking of, could you not get him here?"

"Turns out Natalie hardly knows him more than I do. She literally ran into him for the first time this last week—twice, actually."

Natalie reluctantly nodded when Lance turned an intense look on her. "I don't even know his last name, and I didn't see him on my walk this morning. But he seemed to know me, though he tried to blow it off as me resembling someone he used to know."

"He said you looked like someone he knew?" Lance repeated in a murmur. "Why would he claim that?"

"It would be a little weird to say he'd dreamt of me, don't you think? Though, that didn't stop Anna from saying pretty much exactly that when she first saw him."

"I was surprised is all!" Anna protested with flushed cheeks.

Lance only looked more interested. "What did he say when you said that? That you'd dreamed of him?"

"Nothing, really. Just kind of excused himself," Natalie replied when Anna let out an embarrassed squeak. "He didn't even seem perturbed by it, though, which I suppose is a little odd."

"I wonder if he knows more about this than we do? It's a bit of a jump in logic, but he's the only one who's had a different reaction to discovering the linked dreams," Lance mused.

"He seemed scared when he first saw me—or uneasy at the very least," Natalie offered with a shake of her head and an inexplicable sense of disappointment. "He tried to dodge around it, but his expression was definitely spooked."

"He was scared of you? No offense, but you're hardly an imposing character. Have either of you ever dreamt of threatening him?" Natalie shrugged at the mild insult, but shook her head, as did Anna, and Lance frowned even deeper in thought. "Very interesting..."

"Yes, it's very interesting, but we still don't have a cause," Anna pointed out impatiently.

Lance shrugged, "No, and we may never get one. Even if Matt knows more than us, there's no guarantee he has an answer for us, and I can't think of any rational or scientific answer."

"...What about something a little more supernatural?" Natalie quietly suggested. She flushed when Anna rolled her eyes with a sighed mutter of _here we go_. "Hey, we can't rule it out, yet! Just because science can't explain it doesn't mean it can't be true."

"I tend to err on the side of reason, but what are you suggesting, Natalie?" Lance asked with a frown.

"Professor V, the historical mythology professor, has a theory of souls," Natalie started. She kicked Anna for her snort. "Shut it, Anna. Anyway, he theorizes that a soul stores memories independently from the mind. If we take that theory along with the theory of reincarnation-"

"You think we're remembering stuff from a past life?" Lance interrupted with a raised brow. "That's a little extreme, Natz."

Natalie flung a finger out to point at him. "That nickname! Matt called me that, too! Neither of you know me well enough to give me a nickname, and I've never heard it before, but both of you say it in such an easy, familiar way!"

Lance froze at that point and gaped at Natalie, his mind whirling. "You're- You're right. I've never called you... or even thought of calling you... It just slipped out. What the hell?"

Now Anna looked intrigued as she murmured, "Natz. Huh, sounds fitting, though... Weirdly fitting, for something I've never called you. Kinda like it, anyway, though, spooky reincarnation voodoo or not."

Natalie rolled her eyes and forged ahead. "We've all dreamt the same things: fighting monsters together on a... a squad, or... or a team, or something? What if it's something the soul remembers that the mortal flesh couldn't retain?"

"Alright, suppose we are indeed four reincarnated souls," Lance temporized skeptically, "Why do we look identical to the way we did then? And what are the odds that all four of us end up in the same city, at the same time, out of the hundreds of thousands of places in the world and the billions of people? That's way too coincidental, and don't start feeding me some destiny BS, because I don't buy that crap. And we used _magic_ in this supposed previous life. Where the hell did that magic go? Or the monsters for that matter? Or are you going to make a case that we come from another world, too?"

Natalie flushed and shrugged with her eyes turned aside. "I don't know. Maybe something drastically shifted from whenever we existed before? I get that it's wild and super unlikely, but no one else is offering a reasonable explanation. Maybe a reasonable explanation doesn't exist."

Lance scowled, hating the feeling of something being beyond his understanding. "There has to be some sort of answer."

"Maybe we're all crazy? That's always a possibility," Anna offered sarcastically.

"I have a perfect 4.0 GPA, and have all my life. I've been recognized by multiple organizations and schools. I highly doubt I'm that insane," Lance refuted blandly. He cut a look at Natalie before adding even more blandly, "And until this conversation, I've never considered Natalie to be crazy. She's the only one in the school with grades to match mine."

Anna frowned at that, trying to ignore the twinge of shame as she thought of her own grades. They weren't bad by any stretch of the mind, but she certainly wasn't a perfect-score, genius student. Her talents had always laid in her ability to think critically and quickly, not in remembering texts and equations. "If you're both such geniuses, then why the hell are you going to this rinkydink local school? I couldn't afford anywhere else, but surely you both would have gotten a scholarship or something to someplace a little more credible?"

Natalie cast a look at Anna, detecting the bitter undertone to her words, and she chose her next words carefully to try and soothe her friend. "Convenience. It's close enough to home that my parents didn't fight too much on letting me go. And it might be only a local school, but it has phenomenal professors, has been around long enough to be recognized beyond its locale, and has had plenty of accomplished, even famous, alum. We're all lucky to be able to go here for such a modest tuition fee."

Lance looked uncomfortable as he was forced to wonder why he'd chosen this school. Anna was right: he'd gotten a free ride through any college of his choosing. His grades, extracurricular records, and the fact that he was from foster care had assured his place at any school. And yet, he'd chosen a small town college in the middle of near nowhere, to the dismay, and even derision, of some of his peers in the academic field. It didn't make sense, even to himself. Uneasily, he wondered if maybe some unseen force _was_ applying an invisible hand to his life, guiding him here to meet these two women and possibly Matt.

With a silent snort, he chased the ludicrous thought from his head. He'd always made his own choices, and he'd liked the location, seeing it as an opportunity to start a production firm in a location that was relatively cheap once he'd finished his degree. No magical force was controlling his life, that was for sure, and he certainly wasn't tied together with three other people he'd never met before that year.

"Look, maybe we're making a mountain out of a molehill here," he suddenly said. "We've all been working hard, and our minds are desperate for something to focus on other than studying for finals. I doubt there's anything special about the dreams at all."

Neither Anna or Natalie looked like they believed him—he wasn't even sure he believed himself. They sat in awkward silence for a long minute before Natalie's shoulders slumped.

"I guess it is a little silly to be putting so much effort and worry into this. I mean, it's not like it's had any real effect on our lives," she mumbled.

Anna's face softened with sympathy. Natalie always dreamt for much more than was available, and it must've been hard for her to be forced to give up on her first real sign that maybe things were more than they seemed. "Why don't we track Matt down and ask his opinion? He definitely seemed like he knew something more about this weird mess than any of us did. Maybe he's already found an answer, or has a new insight."

Natalie cast her friend a grateful look for the little glimmer of hope. "It's going to be hard to track down a guy I've only met twice and only know the first name of. He doesn't go to our college, either, or any school around here."

Lance shrugged and waved the issue aside. "Anyone can be found if you try hard enough, and social media and the internet makes that easy, no matter all their silly lies about privacy. Give me a week, and I'll find the guy."

Natalie beamed a thanks and Anna grinned at her friend's excitement. Shortly after a discussion of Matt's physical features and details, they all departed with plans to meet up at the same time next weekend. Lance, already more than prepared for his finals, threw himself into the challenge of locating Matt by first name and description alone. As it turned out, this was more difficult than he'd expected. There were no Matts matching his description registered as living in the area, and no photographs posted on anyone's profiles that mentioned him. In fact, it wasn't until he started asking around at local establishments that he even was able to confirm Matt had been in the area at all.

"Young man about your age, six foot two, with long blond hair and blue eyes? Sure I know him. His name's Matt. He's a regular here at the bar. Never accompanies anyone or talks much, but he's pretty free with his cash—anonymously pays for rounds, sometimes, even, and always leaves nice cash tips," an off-duty barista told him late one evening. "What're you looking for him for? He a friend?"

"Not exactly. I'm looking for him on behalf of someone else," Lance distractedly replied with a thoughtful frown. It was the third place he'd heard that story.

Matt was wealthy enough to pay for rounds so regularly that the bartenders knew him? Yet he was always alone. A strange combination, for sure. Usually people paying for rounds were doing it to impress someone—a business partner, or a date—but not anonymously. On the other hand, he was also a regular at every bar in the area, which implied a drinking problem. Yet Natalie had described him as roguishly handsome, with clear eyes and brilliant gold hair, not like a drunken wastrel who reeked of beer.

"Perhaps he's somebody famous or from a wealthy family?" Lance mused that evening as he scoured the web again, expanding his search to encompass a broader market of people as well as group photos of the bars. But while searching for wealthy heirs or children didn't come up with anything, bar group photos did. He leaned forwards to peer at one grainy picture with a sound of triumph, "That must be him at the seat in the back. Let's see if we can get a better picture, though, something with a clear face..."

Four hours later and Lance cracked a near-sinister smirk as he finally found a picture a drunken reveler had taken a year and a half ago with his arm around Matt's neck, dragging him down for the photo. The blond looked surprised and a little disgruntled in the photo, but his features were extremely clear. Brilliant sapphire eyes stared out from the picture at Lance—clear, bright, intelligent, and fierce—framed by long golden blond hair. Matt, Lance noted with no small amount of jealousy, was a man in excellent shape by the muscles in his upper arms, and he had the features of a royal in the prime of his life. Yet despite it being his first time seeing the man, Lance couldn't help but stare at the photo with a wistful feeling he eventually recognized as content nostalgia, like somehow the man was a close friend of his—practically family.

He shook the thought off, muttering that Natalie's talk was getting to him, and saved the picture to his computer before turning in for the night. He had the piece he needed for an in-depth search of the net. One photo was all it took for a facial recognition program to search for him. Matt had to have some form of identification, after all, if he was getting drinks at the bar.

The next day saw him sitting with Anna at the noodle place. Both were dressed very casually as they talked about their classes and random inconsequential topics. Inevitably, though, their conversation shifted to their unique dream connection.

"I had another one last night," Anna admitted in a murmur. "We were spelunking some cavern covered in glowing crystals. Stone everywhere—even the creatures were made of stone and crystal."

Lance nodded slightly. "I've dreamt of that place before. Weird that anything would throw itself into death, though, animate rock or not."

Anna laughed slightly before nodding to him, "Any luck on Mystery Matt? Natalie can't stop talking about him. If it weren't for the fact that she's never interested in guys, I'd say she's grown a crush on him. An obsession, at the very least."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she has. He makes top rate models look ugly by comparison," Lance admitted with a grudging grimace and a shake of his head. "I found a few pictures of him, but not much beyond that, yet. Near as I can tell, he doesn't have an internet presence of his own much at all—no dating profiles, no chat profiles, no video profiles, nothing. Every photo he's been in seems to accidentally have him in the background, or him as an unwillingly participant of a drunk selfie. He's probably the greatest recluse I've ever seen or heard of—not even any family photos, with him in them or otherwise."

"He didn't seem shy, the way Natalie talks about him, and if he's going out to bars, then he doesn't have a bad case of social anxiety," Anna hummed thoughtfully. She slurped up a few more noodles and chewed on them with a contemplative expression before swallowing to ask, "How're you going to get his address if he doesn't have social media? I doubt the police will give it to you, and you don't seem to have found his surname."

"I've got a facial recognition program searching for me right now. I'll check the results when I get back," Lance explained as he swirled his fork in his food.

"Resourceful... and kinda creepy," Anna laughed. "Matt's going to file a restraining order on us for sure if he finds out how stalker-ish you're being."

Lance snorted and mumbled around a mouthful of food, "Hey, I'm all for dropping this. I mean, it's been an interesting waste of time, and I admit it's piqued my interest, but I'm not going to lose a lot of sleep if I don't find the answer."

"Natalie would. I've never seen her so fired up over something," Anna murmured. She idly stirred her ice with her straw as she said, "She's a brilliant young woman, but she's always... detached in a way. She doesn't date, despite the fact that she's beautiful with plenty of admirers, she rarely goes out to a public place unless I drag her, and she always seems distracted. I've tried asking her about it, but she always says her family wouldn't approve of her seeing anyone while she's here, or that she doesn't like being seen as an object of pleasure. The only class she'll readily talk about is Historic Mythology with Professor V, and then she gets this look in her eyes, like she knows everything one could about it, even though it's her first time taking the class. I know it's ridiculous, but she looks... wiser than her years when she talks about it, and so much more alive."

Lance nodded slightly as he waved for the check. "She did really light up when she talked about her theory. And while it is a little... out there... we've all made several points that there's a lot not adding up that we can't explain. I doubt Matt will have any of the answers she'll want or need, but it might help her find the new questions she needs to ask. And I... have to admit I want to know, too. Why do we all have those dreams? Where does this feeling of belonging come from when I think about the four of us? Why is it that every time I pick up a book on engineering, it feels like I've read it before, like I've learned it before, no matter how complex it is? Natalie's theory is a little crazy, but it makes a lot of sense in a lot of ways."

"Yeah, I guess," Anna murmured uncertainly as she scrawled a tip and her signature on the bill. "I think I just want an answer so I can stop thinking about it... but it is true that I've had a lot of deja vu feelings this last year that I didn't have before meeting any of you."

"Well, I'll let you both know what I find. Who knows? Maybe we'll go meet Matt this weekend?" Lance suggested as he stood back. "Thanks for the lunch, Anna, it was really good. Especially since I've been so wrapped up in this mystery I've been forgetting to eat."

Anna laughed as she shrugged on her coat. "Don't get as hooked on this as Natz. See you this weekend?"

"For sure," Lance agreed as they stepped outside. He hesitated before holding out his hand to Anna. "Walk with me? My dorm is on the way to yours, anyway."

"I'd walk with you even if it weren't," Anna promised with a shy smile as she slipped her hand into his.

Each of them relished the firm grip as the headed down the sidewalk. Anna's heart kept doing giddy little flutters every time Lance rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Likewise, Lance adored the tiny smile on Anna's face every time he looked at her, counting himself lucky that she saw him as someone worth spending time with. His own cheeks flushed and his heart raced when they reached his dorm building and she leaned up to press a chaste, but sweet kiss to his cheek before pulling back with a blush and darting off. He grinned stupidly after her before heading inside with an admittedly excited bounce to his steps.

Five minutes later, and he was staring at the shocking results on his laptop's screen. The program had found Matt, alright, including his current address, but the images and information it also spat out at him made no sense. Among the more recent pictures—some of which he'd found on his own—were black and white artists' sketches of the man dating back hundreds of years ago, grainy black and white photos of crowds outside of old temples with the blond circled in red, excerpts from old scriptures talking about a legendary swordsman, lines from an epic ballad singing to the strength and skill of him and his team... Historians speculated that the "Matt the swordsman" legends spoke of might be a mythical creation of a real historical figure invented to tie different people to one bloodline to bolster a faith in the governments or religions of the times, like some kind of enduring, super ancient King Arthur... All of it linked to one photograph taken by a drunk. Lance sank back into his chair, shocked by the extreme variations in the dates yet the overarching similarities in all of them. He wondered if he was the first to find such a link to the old stories, if anyone else had ever tried to find the truth about Matt and discovered this.

As he numbly clicked through the articles and pictures, he found himself wondering with a sudden unease if maybe there was truth to the myths after all, and if Matt weren't some kind of legendary monster, like a vampire, or a god walking among them. It was a radically different opinion than he'd ever taken before, but he could hardly discredit so much information that agreed with itself gathered independently over the course of hundreds of years.

His fingers reached for his phone almost of their own volition, and he shakily scrolled his contacts to call Natalie and Anna to ask them to meet up at the library immediately. His voice sounded strange even to him as he assured them he was alright, and he couldn't quite remember packing his laptop and heading out to the library. Both women were waiting for him when he arrived, and they exchanged worried looks at the dazed expression of shock on Lance's face.

"Are you alright, Lance?" Anna asked uncertainly. He'd been fine when she'd seen him less than an hour ago.

"I found Matt," Lance murmured as he sat down and pulled out his laptop. He opened the results and spun the computer around to show them. He watched their eyes narrow in confusion before steadily widening in the same shock he'd felt as they read and began to connect the same dots he had. "I didn't think to limit the dates on the search since the program is designed to work from most recent sources working back, and my computer can handle pretty much any amount of data. I figured he would be a more recent subject," he explained thickly when Anna murmured a date almost five hundred years ago. "You could almost make the case that maybe he's reincarnated, too, but there are dozens of depictions of him within fifty years of each other."

"This drawing... it's him down to exact detail," Natalie said shakily. "But it was drawn hundreds of years ago! And the legends go back even further than that! What...?"

"What _is_ he?" Anna asked uneasily.

Lance swallowed to wet his dry throat before saying, "Not human, that's for sure. I don't know what he is, but no ordinary mortal looks exactly the same for centuries. But if anyone has ever wanted confirmation on the supernatural, I think we've found it."

"But why is he here, living like an ordinary person?" Anna wondered as she leaned back and finally shut the laptop. "The legends clearly state a supernatural power about him—magic, I'd wager. How has nobody questioned him, seen him do something out of the ordinary, wondered about his eternal youth?"

"He doesn't tell them," Lance replied tightly. "He has no social media, no official record in the population count for the area, his ID is an excellent forgery from the black market; he doesn't even typically give his name out when he buys drinks at the bar. Who could possibly notice he's not aging if nobody knows him? I suspect he's moved a lot over his lifetime, to keep people from knowing him, keep them from questioning him. And with little wonder. Imagine the riots if people found out someone was legitimately an immortal legend and walking among them. He'd be accused of being an alien for sure, spirited away in the night by some government or underground organization."

"Sounds lonely..." Natalie murmured.

"Sounds dangerous," Anna corrected sharply. "Natalie, I know you're going to want to meet him, but I don't think that's a good idea. He was scared of you. Why, I don't know: maybe because you recognized him in some way, maybe because he definitely recognized you. It doesn't matter. People do stupid, irrational, reckless things when they're scared, and he could have the ability to really hurt you."

Natalie stared at the laptop and thought on that. The fear rang wrong to her very being. If Matt had wanted her eliminated to protect himself, then he could easily have done so—she was hardly difficult to get to, after all. In fact, he'd purposefully tried to mislead her about who he was. And he'd been kind to her, even if no more so than any good hearted stranger would be. And in her dreams—memories—he'd been nothing but a good and trusted friend, covering her and taking care of her. She'd never once felt threatened by him, his memory, or the thought of him.

"I doubt Matt would do anything to her—to any of us," Lance refuted, ignorant of Natalie's thoughts following a similar logic. "It's too much of a liability. My roommate saw his picture and knows I was searching for him, you both are well known as friends, Anna and I have started dating; any one of those factors complicates getting rid of us. Besides, he's never done anything actually evil, even in those legends. He's powerful and potentially dangerous, certainly, but not evil."

"But is it really such a good idea to go whack the hornets' nest?" Anna countered. "Sure, he's been nice, but he's also taken pains to remain off the grid. What would he do to protect that?"

"He would have moved on immediately after I first started to remember him," Natalie replied distantly. "Surely he'd be skilled at picking up and leaving, but he didn't. And in a lot of ways, he seemed to _want_ to talk to me, even if under the guise of a lie. Maybe he's missed me. Maybe he's missed all of us."

"Possibly," Lance agreed. He raised a hand to stop Anna's argument. "Here's what we'll do. Each of us will tell one person—our dorm mate, for example—that we'll be back at a certain time. We'll go meet Matt and present him with what we've found. I suspect he'll try to mislead us, or even scare us, but I doubt he'll hurt us. If nothing else, it would be good to rule out being attacked by him as a potential threat."

Anna opened her mouth, but shut it again as she considered that. Lance made a good point that it would be comforting to know if Matt was a danger to them. And he hadn't seemed bad when she first met him, and she put a lot of stock into surprise first impressions. You could tell a lot from a person based on how they reacted in an unexpected meeting, and Matt had been cautious, but not angry or threatening.

"...Alright, let's go meet him."

Lance stretched out to pat her shoulder. "I'll watch your back, Anna, don't worry—you and Natalie. Do you ladies want to do this now, or another day?"

"I've got my first final early tomorrow," Natalie reluctantly refused. "However this turns out, it wouldn't be wise to blow our education over it. Let's meet him after finals are over. How about that first afternoon after the last exams?"

"Works for me," Anna agreed tensely, though she made a face at the thought of finals. "And speaking of, I need to get back to studying. I was in the middle of a long problem when Lance called."

"Let me know if either of you need help preparing," Lance offered as he stood up, already confident that he'd ace all of his exams. He ran a hand through his bangs after he'd slung his laptop bag over his shoulder, and muttered, "Gonna be hard to ignore this mystery even if just for a few days... See ya, girls."

 **OOOOOO**

"And that's time! Put down your pencils and turn in your exams. Have your IDs ready when you hand in your papers. And don't bug the proctors or TAs for when grades will be ready!"

Anna frowned at the last problem she hadn't been able to get to, but dutifully gathered up the test booklet, her essay question response, and her scantron. This had been the test she'd been most worried about, but while she felt confident that she knew the material, she was still upset at running out of time.

"Well, you don't have Natalie or Lance's super brains, so what did you expect?" she muttered under her breath as she walked out of the class after handing in her exam.

All around her, students were chattering about their answers, worries, and relief at being done with the semester. Anna strode past them, ignoring the plans they made for visiting family, or getting jobs and internships. Lance and Natalie would be waiting on her by this point. She still wasn't sure meeting Matt was the best plan, but she also couldn't deny a deep seated curiosity about him. And, privately, she secretly hoped maybe he could give her an insight on her past life to give her a direction for the future. She wouldn't stay in school forever, after all, and her father was right that woodworking wasn't a reliable source of income. Speaking of, she really needed to work on getting the funds or loans together for next semester as soon as possible...

"Anna! Congrats on finishing the exams! How'd it go?"

Anna looked up at Natalie's cheerful voice, and brushed her worries aside. "Didn't quite get to finish the last one, but I still feel pretty good about them overall. You?"

"All the stuff I was worried about wasn't even on the exam!" Natalie complained. "I freaked out and pulled two all nighters for nothing!"

"Better over prepared: isn't that what you told me when I said maybe you should ease up a bit?" Anna chuckled. "Still, it's over now, and knowing you, you'll have top marks. Lance, too."

Natalie grinned at her, "And you'll be getting honors, also. You've earned it with all the work you put in to get ready. You studied harder than I did."

"I needed to study harder than you did. This stuff doesn't come naturally to me," Anna pointed out more sharply than she'd intended.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," Natalie soothed. "I'm proud of you for putting in so much effort. I'm sure your parents will be, too."

"Maybe," Anna muttered moodily. She blamed the bad mood on being tired and strung out from exam week, and tried to shake it off. "Let's go meet Lance and get this over with."

Natalie frowned at her friend and reached out to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You know you can talk to me if you need to, right? I'll do whatever I can to help."

" _Can you scrounge together a few extra thousand to foot my college bills?_ " Anna thought sarcastically. What she really did was give a tired smile, and assured, "I'm just tired is all. Looking forwards to sleeping instead of reading for once."

Natalie lightly squeezed Anna's shoulder, not quite buying that, but let the subject drop. They walked in silence to where Lance waited for them at the edge of the campus grounds. Anna perked up a little at seeing him leaning against a light pole, and darted forwards for a hug. He readily returned the embrace, and offered a high five when she pulled back.

"Did that squares trick work?" he asked as he scanned Anna's tired and stressed features.

"Yeah. It made the math exam one of the easiest, thanks. You ready?"

"Been ready since last week," Lance promised, nodding a welcome to Natalie when she reached them. "Hey, Natalie. Congrats on finishing your degree a year early."

Natalie flushed at that when Anna whirled to look at her in surprise. "Thanks. I'd like to stay for my masters, but I promised the folks I'd take a break to come visit them."

"This was your last year? But I thought..." Anna whispered in dismay before trailing off.

"I was taking the accelerated learning path, remember? That's why I've been so booked and unable to go out to eat more often," Natalie reminded. She smiled at Anna's disappointed expression and promised, "Don't worry, I'll keep in touch even if I'm not in the area, and I'll definitely be back. After all, you're my only source of romantic drama."

Anna couldn't resist a snort at that and finally cracked a small grin. "Right. Well, super congratulations, Natz. So you'll be walking next week, huh?"

"Maybe. I don't really like big ceremonies, so I might opt to just get my diploma mailed," Natalie replied with a shrug. She gestured to Lance and briskly changed the subject with eagerness in her eyes. "So, where are we headed?"

"Not too far: about a twenty minute walk from here. Matt's renting an apartment on Golden Oak drive, and he's definitely still in the area. He was seen at a bar last weekend."

"Then I guess this is it, huh? Think he'll come clean?" Anna wondered as they set off.

"Based on what I've seen of him, I think he'll be an idiot," Lance snorted, referring to the dreams.

"Everyone's an idiot compared to you," Natalie sighed with a roll of her eyes.

She cast a brief look at Anna as she said that, and caught the other woman's wince even as she gave a tight laugh. Her lips tightened slightly and she made a mental note to confront Anna about her intelligence later, suspecting it was the source of her current depression. But now, in front of Lance, wasn't the time for such a discussion—she didn't want to embarrass her friend, or create a wedge between her and Lance. The new couple were happy with each other, and she'd be damned if she ruined that for them—not when Anna had once admitted to feeling wholly inadequate in the dating department. And Lance smiled much more when Anna was around, which was a nice shift from the bored scowl he normally wore in class.

Their journey was made mostly in silence as they headed into an older section of the town. Lance led them down winding streets with neat gardens kept just about everywhere, purposefully striding down a route he'd preplanned days ago. And then they were stopping at a brick walled apartment complex that looked as though it had been there for a long time. It lacked the gated entrance that many of the other complexes had, and clearly was a little more weathered than other ones, but it still looked well maintained with proper upkeep.

"Alright, here we are. Matt's apartment is on the third floor, room 311—it should be on the left side," Lance announced.

"What are we even going to say to him?" Natalie suddenly wondered. "I mean, it was one thing when he was like one of us, dreaming of past lives, but he's not."

"No, he's some kind of immortal demigod creature. I doubt we'll be able to pull a fast one on him, so it might be best and easiest if we come clean about what we know and cut right to the chase," Lance agreed. His hand drifted to his right hip and his mouth set before he started walking again.

The walk up the stairs and down a hall seemed to last both forever and not long enough at all. Their hearts were racing with anticipation, and their palms were sweaty. And then a thick wooden door loomed before them with a faded plaque depicting the number 311. Lance hesitated only briefly before raising his hand to knock firmly. Behind him, Anna and Natalie crowded a little closer.

For several minutes, nothing happened. There was no noise from within, no voice calling that they were coming. Lance was just about to knock again when the sound of a latch sliding back stopped him and the door swung open. And there, leaning against the entry hall wall, was Matt. He wore a rumpled white wife beater shirt, loose gym shorts, and no shoes. His gaze was sharp and intense as he studied them, scanning each of their faces with a sort of resignation. Then, without a word, he pushed the door open wider and gestured for them to enter.

"Take your shoes off and hang your jackets on the tree," Matt muttered without looking back. His voice echoed back to them as he rounded a corner, "Lance, set the gun you've got tucked in your waistband on the table there, along with any switchblades you're carrying in your boots, or jacket, or whatever."

Lance started, his eye going wide. Matt knew his name, knew he was armed, and where the weapons were. Anna shot him a look with an arched brow as she mouthed _you brought a gun?_ Natalie rolled her eyes and muttered about great first impressions as she nudged her shoes off. Before long, they'd followed Matt into a sitting room where he was sprawled in a worn armchair, waiting for them. To a casual observer, the blond looked bored, or merely tired, but the glint in his eyes told his guests he knew who they were and suspected what they had come for. He nodded for them to take a seat on the opposite sofa, above which a gleaming sword was mounted beneath its red leather sheath, hilt shining gold, and blade a blued silver, while a polished ruby gem glinted in the winged crosspiece. Matt opened the conversation without any introduction.

"So. You found me. I'm sure I have Lance to blame for that."

"You know my name?" Lance asked warily, wondering why he was surprised.

"I suspected you might be here, too, after I saw them. And if you were here, then you probably looked the same and had the same name. Natalie has her name and face, as does Anna; it doesn't take a genius to draw a correlation."

"So then you know why we're here?"

"Well, I doubt you came to reminisce," Matt grunted, though his expression flickered with a sort of longing sorrow. "Not one of you knows me. Not really. Not anymore. I assume you've drawn some connections, had questions, and are looking for answers."

"How old are you?" Anna blurted out first. She fought the instinctive flinch when Matt turned that appraising sapphire gaze on her. It was both familiar and not, for more than one reason.

"Old," Matt finally replied vaguely after a long moment. "But you already knew that, or you wouldn't have asked. I stopped tracking my birthday a long time ago, but over seven hundred, now, at least." He shifted to lean his cheek on his hand and nodded to them. "I've got a question for you three: what are you hoping to gain here? Regardless of what you may or may not remember, we're not friends anymore. I'm not going to pretend you're the same people, because you're not. That friendship died centuries ago when you did."

Natalie exchanged a look with Lance and Anna before she took a deep breath. "I don't know what I'm hoping to gain, if anything, but I have a lot of reasons for coming. Mostly questions and curiosity." She held Matt's gaze evenly as he presented a mask of an expression, but was unsure of what he was hiding from them.

"Questions can be dangerous; their answers even more so. You might be better off not knowing, you know. You're each in good health, attending a good school, and, I assume, getting good grades. Do you really want to risk upsetting what you have now by asking after what's gone?"

"I think I do," Natalie replied quietly. "I've never felt quite right. I've... dreamt... of strange places, beasts, and spells my whole life. Until very recently, I thought I just have an overactive imagination. I'm sick of feeling like I'm reaching for something that should be mine by right only to be unable to find it, whether it's magic or a memory."

"You can make new memories, and, frankly, that's what you should be doing," Matt countered calmly, ignoring her mention of magic. He blew out a silent sigh and shifted his weight slightly before murmuring, "I admit, when I first saw you, I couldn't believe it. I denied it, even. You—all of you—had been some of my closest and most treasured companions before age claimed you, and I thought I would never see any of you again until I died myself. When I ran into you, and you sort of remembered me, I began to consider reincarnation: something I'd never believed in before. I started to hope that maybe it was a priceless gift from the gods. But after talking with you, I realized you're not Natalie, Anna, and Lance—not _my_ Natalie, Anna, and Lance—and I accept that."

"So the souls mean nothing to you?" Lance challenged, feeling a great, inexplicable ache forming in his chest at Matt's dismissal. "We have the souls, the bodies; we even have some of the memories, and more are coming back all the time. Does the fact that time has passed change who we are?"

Matt closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself before opening them again. "No, time doesn't change who you are, but death does. I don't think you get it—maybe you can't. I was at each of your beds as you died. I held your hands, buried your bodies. You may wear their faces, you may have their souls, their memories, but your new lives shaped you differently. You're not the same, you'll never be the same, and trying to shape you to be the same again would be childish and _wrong_. Besides, the world is radically different now compared to what it was back then. The skills and knowledge you cultivated in that life aren't useful now. The world moved on. You need to do the same."

Natalie didn't understand the sudden burning of tears in her eyes, but she blinked furiously to try and keep them from forming and falling. "Why can't we have both? You clearly knew us well. Do you think we'll be _happy_ that you wrote us off so quickly? You're right: I don't really know you. But despite that, every fiber of my being tells me you're as close to me as kin, and I want to _know_ you. And you look so pained when you look at us, which makes me think maybe we aren't as different as you're claiming us to be. What if who I am now wants this as much as who I was would want this? Don't I get a say in this?"

"Don't we all get a say in this?" Lance muttered in a thick voice.

Matt's lips pursed as he hesitated, having never thought of it like that before. Did he have a right to decide what they did with their lives? If they wanted this, then what could be damaging about it? It wasn't like he was forcing them to remember him and their life on the team. But it was also true that they had grown up radically differently. Monsters didn't roam the world, and combat wasn't the path to a brighter future. Each of them had once had deadly instincts; having those back could spell trouble. But if Lance was right, and they were steadily remembering their past lives, then they could regain those instincts anyway, and they might not mesh so well with the more peaceful lives they led now. Wouldn't he be better served to keep them close, to watch out for them, guide them? It wasn't like he was the only ancient creature in the world, either. Someone might find them—someone with an ancient grudge. Matt's mouth curled into a protective frown, his eyes distant as he thought and weighed the situation.

And, really, he wanted them back so badly it was a physical pain in his chest. He'd been alone for so long in all the ways that matter; didn't he have a right to be happy again? And Natalie wanted him back; Lance seemed to, too. In fact, only Anna had remained silent nearly the whole time.

"What do you think, Anna?" Matt asked, eying the former ranger. "Do think this is worth it?"

Anna hesitated, glancing at Natalie and Lance, who merely watched her in return, not wanting to influence her answer. There was a challenge to Matt's words, but she wasn't sure what for, or if she was ready to face it. And she'd been watching him as he spoke, digging for answers in his expression beyond what he was saying—answers about his own feelings on the matter.

"I think this is all mad," Anna admitted quietly. "I mean, less than a month ago, and I would have laughed this off as a bad story plot. I don't have the same yearning Natalie does, or the attachment Lance seems to have. I think I originally agreed to come only to keep an eye on them, watch their backs, because you're a really dangerous character. But at the same time, I feel more comfortable here than I ever have in my life, which is saying a lot since I've got a good family. And I've recently gained some things that I'll lose if I walk away from this, from you, from who I once was. I won't give them up. If learning about you, them, and myself is what it takes to keep what I have, then I'll gladly welcome you back as a friend. We're already in this; have been since the first dreams. So we might as well give it our all, and see it through."

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ : _Another long thingy, and one I've had the idea for for months. I'm pretty proud of this one. :3 Plus I liked writing invasion-of-privacy-Lance and Natalie shipping Anna. This one is at a point where it could be considered completed, though it could also be continued, too. I haven't decided what Matt is in this, but I'm partial to dragon Matt, so he's proabbaly a dragon. XD_

 _As for the missing mana and monsters, right now the thought in my head is that Matt capped the mana sources because people were making giant mana weapons, and if mana is gone, monsters are gone, and people don't really_ need _mana. Stereotypical fantasy plot, I know, but it works nicely. That must be why it's a stereotype, I suppose. :P_

 _ **Guest** **Review** **Responses** :_

 _ **Anonymous** : Techie Anna is one of my favorites. In a lot of the future stuff I write, she gets much more informed on technology. Not as good as Lance, of course, but better than Natalie or Matt by a lot._

 _Yeah, I beat the final boss, too. No spoilers here, but such good stuff!_

 _ **Miles** **or** **Arrow** : Yeah, that one ended up being very new and different, but I rather like it. :3_

 _I never used to think encouraging words from a stranger on the internet mattered much, but ever since I first started posting here, that opinion changed a lot. It's surprisingly helpful and encouraging to have people honestly enjoy my work enough to review it again and again, and then become another support net when things seemed all bad. I appreciate you and all the other kind reviewers so much!_

 _ **Jason** : Thank you for finding those typos! They're the little, easily overlooked ones I cannot never seem to find. :P I think I've I've fixed them, now. Expects, when spelled wrong, usually gets autocorrected to excepts, so maybe that's why you see it a lot._

 _Not sure killing people in your name I should a good thing, but it is sweet here (I think?). Lance and Anna definitely pair off into an adorable couple where Anna knows she can handle herself but also that Lance will have her back no matter what (though she may need to keep his name off the murderer books)._

 _ **Little** **Follower (for Gaea review)** : Quite the split up review. Is the length of the review what makes them vanish into the empty void of the Fanfiction review system? They got a little mixed up, but the part titles helped in piecing them together. I'll try to give a good reply to the parts as a whole review._

 _(Pt1) Yep, I'm getting better mentally, so it's getting easier to write again. I even tacked a couple thousand words onto the next chapter of Shadow of the Blight, which has been a huge stress topic for me! :O_

 _I do adore writing little moments where the team member is about as educated as a high school dropout. None of them are particularly stupid, per say, but in my head cannon, typically only Lance and Natalie have had a formal education (which ironically lines up pretty closely with the actual cannon)._

 _I tend to write ancient characters with absolutely no contracted words and with a more rigid sentence structure. I'm glad that's translated the way I wanted. :3_

 _Yup. Matt is a dragon. The idea stuck and now it will never leave my head. I'm always wanting to make him a dragon, now. :P Not that age or a few measly drops of dragon blood mixed with his is going to distract him from smiting foes and getting loot, though. He'll have an issue with the consequences of the blood later, but it'll work out._

 _(Pt2) Yeah, definitely don't let them investigate ancient sites. Next thing you know, Matt's smacking monoliths with swords, and Anna's possessed by a god. XD_

 _Yay! Somebody else likes the romantic part as much and for the same reason I do! I'm quite proud of how the romance is working out in this one. So many of my works it just... happens, which more or less works for Natz and Matt because they've been friends for so long and it's established that Natalie is crushing on him, but it doesn't make much sense for Anna and Lance other than that they're pretty similar in approaches and skills._

 _(Pt 3) This will also include pt 2.5 since a portion got repeated, I think._

 _Lance is definitely playing the one-man blame game. Though it hasn't been written yet, he did say some... rather rude and mocking things to the goddess when they beat her. Those words didn't have any effect on Anna's mental state, but Gaea's parting sally of "You may have defeated me, but I've won/but it was at a cost" helped skew his thoughts. He assumes, falsely, that by angering the goddess, he encouraged her to do more damage to Anna's mind than might have happened if he'd kept his mouth shut. Matt's counter was one hundred percent accurate that the moment Anna was possessed to such a degree, her mind was already in the shattered state it's in for the majority of rest of the story._

 _I'm trying to figure out ways to do passage of time without a major time skip and without a long, boring walking scene that always stonewalls me. I think I've found a few tricks that work, like the apples turning brown. :3_

 _I want a foxhare almost as much as I want a shoulder dragon. I'd probably be allergic to them, but that wouldn't stop me from wanting one! They aren't a crossbree: the name is more of a literal description of their appearance. I didn't want to break up the flow by describing in detail, so it's mostly up to the reader to picture, but in the original design I made of them, they have a feline-like body and legs, habit of climbing up high, and stalking style of hunting; a fox's bushy tail with a white tip and the white belly, and the ability to eat pretty much anything like most canids; a wild rabbit's soft fur, ears, and facial structure. Maple is a kind of mousy brown, but foxhares can come in a lot of colors. They're all very smart, and very opinionated in a cat-like sense._

 _I'm not sure what you mean by parental affection. His treatment of Maple, maybe? If so, then yes, Lance should never have a pet or a kid. XD_

 _Yeah, I can hardly stand to look at some of my older stuff, it's got such poor writing in it. "Oh, god, why did I put that semicolon there...and there?! wtf was wrong with me, semicolons everywhere!" comes up a lot. And REALLY weird and clumsy efforts at describing stuff. XD An Epic Retelling had a lot of both of those, which, as my first effort, it would. The learning has come a long way. :P But then some of them from a similar point in time were actually really good and still are, and I'm baffled by the phenomenon. It's like digging up a doodle you made in math class in the seventh grade and realizing you can't really draw that well even ten years later and you wonder what artist's spirit possessed you that day. A lot of them I like the plots so much I've rewritten them and they wound up on here, like Heiress, and the plot changes into something even better. It's a lot of fun. :3_

 _Thank you for always saying that and being supportive. :3 I'm doing a lot better, now. I'm finally at the point where I can sometimes tell the dick in my head that it is in fact a dick and needs to go away. It's not all good, of course, but it's so, so much better than where I was in January. Still have moments where I feel like I haven't gotten anywhere in the effort, but those periods are getting shorter each time._

 _I think that's everything for the reviews... Hope you all enjoyed this, leave me a review, and to any Americans today out there, have a Happy Thanksgiving!_


	16. Heiress - Continued (Rated M)

**Title** : Heiress (Addition/Continuation)

 **Genre** : Romance

 **Pairings** : Matt x Natalie, Lance x Anna

 **Rating** : M

 **Warnings** : Language, sexual themes, death, blood, implied torture

* * *

The man convulsed once more before gasping out a final breath and slumping still, eyes glazing into a permanent gaze of desperation. There were no wounds on him, her magic did nothing to help him; even her revival spell had no effect. It seemed as though one moment, the man had been fine and telling her some silly little anecdote, and the next his body had turned on him. But she had been with him the entire evening! He'd gone nowhere without her, talked to no one out of her presence, eaten nothing she had not...

Natalie's hand flew to her throat and her eyes widened with horror when, with a sudden chill of dread, she realized exactly what had happened. Poison. But how? Taste testers tried some of every dish in the room before the nobles would touch it! And it had been a communal buffet, so how had they managed to only get their targeted dignitary without poisoning everyone else?

"Unless they _did_ poison everyone else," Natalie realized aloud in horror.

Everyone, including her.

Her heart raced against her will, speeding the process of the poison to the point that she could feel her fingers and toes beginning to go numb. With determined, icy calm, she forced her breathing to slow down as she turned her most powerful cleanse spell on herself. She wasn't dead yet, and whether that was because she had ingested less of whatever dish had been poisoned, or because her own natural defenses were aiding her, she didn't know. It didn't matter. She was still breathing, and she refused to stop. She was Natalie, conquerer of Akron, bane of Godcat, hero of the land, and no mere poison would kill her.

The numbing sensation slowed to a crawl as her mana fought with relentless fury. But it didn't stop, and her chest was starting to feel tight. Natalie shut her eyes in desperate concentration, and the soft glow surrounding her body began to grow in intensity. Distantly, she heard shouts of alarm as guards discovered more victims of the poison followed by shouts to find her. Plated boots clattered down the hall growling louder and louder before coming to a halt before her. Natalie didn't open her eyes as she addressed the guards in a weak, wheezing voice.

"Find... the castle alchemist... Can't purify it on my own... Need an antidote..."

"Understood. You, wait here with the Lady Regent. I'll go bring the healer."

"Yessir!"

"Wait," Natalie croaked. She didn't open her eyes to see if the order was heard, but continued anyway, "Get... some of the food..."

The first guard made a sound of confusion, but Natalie was too tired to figure out how to explain what she meant. Luckily for her, the second guard understood much more quickly.

"The dinner! Something was poisoned at the dinner! We'll need a sample of that to identify the poison and find an antidote!"

"Ah, of course! Just hold on, milady. We'll have you back on your feet in no time!"

Natalie didn't say anything, too wrapped up in a losing battle with the poison to respond, much less come up with an assurance that she would be fine. She could feel the numbness spreading faster, and she wondered if this was actually going to be it for her after all. Dying of poison on the cold floor of her family's castle rather than in bed surrounded by loved ones, or even at the fangs and claws of some monster seemed so horribly unfitting for the end of her life. Lance and Anna would never let her spirit forget it. And Matt... Never had she thought she would die without even getting to say goodbye to him. They didn't _do_ goodbyes, only promises to see each other again soon.

No, she couldn't change that now. She couldn't give up yet.

"Is she still awake?"

"I- I think so? She only just collapsed a few moments ago."

Natalie's eyes fluttered and she realized in idle surprise that at some point, she'd laid down. She couldn't even feel the cold of the stone floor. Polished boots skidded to a halt in front of her eyes before a wizened hand reached forwards to roll her onto her back, then pried her jaw open with surprising strength. A slimy, bitter liquid flooded her mouth, rushing past her tongue, and she reflexively gagged, trying to spit it out before that same hand covered her mouth and nose. An instinctive fear took hold. No more poison. She couldn't handle anymore poison. She hadn't even handled the first batch.

"Easy, easy, milady. You must swallow this," a reedy voice soothed above her. "Come now, don't be a child. I know it's bitter, but all the best medicines are bitter. This is even more true for antidotes."

Natalie relaxed at that word, a shudder of relief passing through her. Antidote. Right. She'd sent for an antidote. That made this man with the horrible liquid the royal alchemist. She swallowed the antidote, sending another shudder through her body, and one she relished. There would be no goodbyes to Matt and the others just yet.

"There, that's it. Heavens, you are a lucky one. Few survive the distilled venom of the Forest Wraith," the healer murmured as he finally released her several long minutes later.

"And I'm sure fewer still know the antidote," Natalie croaked with a faint smile. Her eyes opened to stare up at the ring of hazy faces over her, but mainly at the most wrinkled one. "I knew we kept your old bones around for a reason."

His face wrinkled further as he smiled. "Yes, how wise of your family. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Like my stomach and intestines liquified," Natalie replied bluntly, shutting her eyes again. "I'm cold and exhausted."

"Not surprising. You had one foot in the realm of the dead. How's the head?"

"...Kinda fuzzy? No blank spots besides when I collapsed. Fingers are tingling. I guess the nerves are coming back."

The healer chuckled. "I keep forgetting you're an experienced healer yourself. In the end, that is likely what saved you tonight."

Natalie shook her head slightly, suddenly feeling vulnerable and afraid. "I couldn't cleanse it. I've never been unable to cleanse a poison or venom before."

"Perhaps, but you certainly slowed the effects enough for aid to reach you, and that is nothing to sniff at," the healer countered before his voice softened. "Now, now... You're safe... Save the tears for the others."

Natalie's eyes snapped open, and the sudden rush of adrenalin gave her the energy to begin trying to sit up only for a guard to hold her down at the healer's directive. "Oh, gods... How many others died?" There was silence as the men over her exchanged somber looks, and Natalie's heart twisted. "... _All_ of them?"

"...Yes, milady. The twenty five members of the retinue, the five taste testers, one maid, and two chefs have passed," one of the guards finally reported in a tight voice. "They were fine for over an hour before suddenly dropping mid speech."

"Like Lord Galesburg," Natalie murmured, turning her head to where the man lay, now covered with a cloth. She shut her eyes before turning forwards again. "Do we have any suspects?"

The healer interrupted the guard's report. "That is certainly something that can wait. You two, help the Lady Regent to her quarters. She needs rest. Too much strain to her body now could lead to complications in her recovery."

Natalie frowned at that, wanting to argue, but knowing better. It was no different than what she would have suggested if she'd been the one tending a victim of poison. As such, she allowed the guards to haul her up and support her weakened frame, though she was alarmed at how feeble all her muscles were. Further proof of needing rest, she grimly mused.

"I want a full sweep of the castle and grounds. Gather up all unsealed food and drink and dispose of it. We can't be sure what's been contaminated or not. For now, avoid using the wells until we can be sure they're safe. Send Jeffery to replenish the larder enough for tomorrow's meals. If you catch the perpetrator, or have any suspects, have them detained _alive_ in the Pit. I'll see them once I'm back on my feet," she ordered. "As for the dead... Have them gathered and inform their families as soon as they're identified. Have the scribes begin writing a full report and formal apology for Lord Galesburg's widow."

 **OOOOOO**

Matt's brows rose at the demand. "You want to search me? What the heck for?"

"New policy, my lord," the guard explained in an apologetic undertone. He glanced around before lowering his voice even further. "We know you'd never hurt the Lady Regent, but..."

Now Matt's brows furrowed in suspicious concern. "Is Natalie okay?"

"There has been a string of incidents—accidents only, of course, but they've been frequent enough to be concerned. Security has been increased accordingly."

The news caused Matt's heart to skip a beat and a flash of fury to rise. His mind raced even as he allowed the guard to pat him down, check his pockets, and even his adventure pouch. Someone was trying to hurt, maybe even kill, Natalie. He distantly thanked the guard for allowing him through, and set an immediate path for Natalie's room. It was in the front atrium that he suspected he'd found the site of one of the "accidents".

Scaffolding had been erected up near the ceiling where a chandelier was missing. Cracks on the stone floor told him the fixture had fallen—or been dropped. Further along, he passed a section of snapped banister by the viewing platform. After a discreet glance around, he ducked under the velvet divider to inspect the spokes still stuck in the floor. As he'd suspected, the wood had been sawed partway through, only just enough to be noticeable when closely checked, but also compromised enough to snap under too much weight. The drop was almost two stories: easily a lethal fall.

With a scowl, Matt ducked back onto his path, taking in the extra guardsmen located at all entrances, and the suspicious gazes of the servants he passed. When he reached the stairwell leading to Natalie's private wing, he was stopped by crossed spears.

"Only pre-approved individuals beyond this point," one of the two guards said in a firm growl. "Turn back."

Matt's scowl deepened. "I am Matt Roszak of the House of Wolves. Stand aside."

"You could be my nanny's ailing grandmother, or cousin to the king, and I wouldn't move. Pre-approved individuals only. Now scram."

For a few moments, Matt seriously considered taking down the guardsmen, both to get them out of his way and to prove a point. Fortunately—for the guardsmen—a tired, but welcome voice spoke up.

"Let him through."

Matt's eyes rose past the crossed spears to the sight of an exhausted looking Natalie leaning against the stone wall at the top of the curved stairwell. Her eyes were dull with deep shadows under them and her face was a little too pale, though she smiled at him all the same. He barely noticed the spears dropping, and he completely ignored the guards' threats of execution should anything befall their Lady Regent. In fact, he hardly registered moving up the stairs to stand before Natalie, looking down at her with concern.

"You look awful," Matt breathed worriedly.

One of Natalie's slender shoulders rose and fell in a tired acknowledgement as she turned to lead the way to her room. Matt's concern only grew when she stumbled as soon as they were out of sight of the guards, and he reached out to catch and steady her. Without a word, he bent to pick her up and carried her the rest of the way to her private quarters, merely nodding a thanks to the two familiar guards outside that opened the way.

Natalie's chambers hadn't changed much, though things were in a bit of a cluttered state of disarray. The largest change was the iridescent barrier that stretched across her balcony and windows. Matt's worry increased as he settled Natalie on her bed and fussed with the sheets and pillows to make her comfortable. Natalie let out a long, relieved sigh and shut her eyes for a few moments as a few lines of worry on her face smoothed out now that she had Matt's protection.

"I'm glad you're here," she murmured when her eyes opened again.

Matt gave her a tight smile in return as he smoothed her hair back. "Sorry I wasn't here sooner. I would have come immediately, if I'd known. You should have sent a messenger, or NoLegs."

"I tried, but NoLegs couldn't pinpoint your location in the swamp, and no courier or knight was willing to risk finding you on foot—especially not when they all think they should be here to deal with assassins," Natalie snorted with a roll of her eyes.

"What all has happened? I saw the aftermath of the chandelier, and the balcony rail, but neither of those could explain how run down you look," Matt breathed as he studied Natalie's drawn features.

"I'm tired, is all," Natalie promised, stifling a yawn as she spoke. "It's a little harder to sleep when you might be attacked at any time, and it's not like my duties just up and vanish just because a crisis is happening." Her expression flickered slightly as she debated her next words before she added solemnly, "I'm also still recovering from a near miss with poison."

Matt's blood ran cold, and he rocked back slightly in shock. "Poison?" he repeated faintly. "How the heck did they poison you?! You have taste testers, right? And why didn't you or another healer just cleanse it?!"

"Dinner a week ago," Natalie explained softly, her eyes dark. "The bastards are smart. They picked a slow acting nerve agent that's resistant to magical cures. Unfortunately for them, the castle's herbologist is a master in poisons and their effects, as well as antidotes, and my mana and magic are much more powerful than a typical mage's. I was able to slow the effects down even before the antidote arrived. Even still, I was on bedrest for three days, and everyone else who ate that meal died that same night. The populace at large, and most of the guards, don't know, which is part of the reason royal duties are carrying on as normal."

"Wouldn't it be easier to explain? I mean, opening the gates for the daily complaints is begging an assassin to slip in. You've been lucky and skilled so far, but eventually, someone else is going to get luckier."

Not to downplay Natalie's ability, or his own, but it was a fact of fighting that something could always go horribly wrong. He was confident that he could protect her when she herself couldn't, but there were some things he couldn't stop. A slow acting nerve agent potent enough to kill an entire gathering of people? It wasn't a physical target he could intercept or kill.

"If I order the gates shut, then I breed discontent with the people. And the people, when they get too discontent and disillusioned, have this nasty habit of making their problems known with sharp objects and fire; usually somebody rich gets lynched. The weekly hearing of grievances goes a long way towards connecting with and placating the people," Natalie explained in a tired, but patient voice. She tried for a half smile. "Besides, I'd go nuts if I only spoke to the masters of coin and affairs."

"You'd be safer if the gates stayed shut until the problem is resolved," Matt grumbled before heaving a sigh. "But I can already see I'll lose this argument. Where do you want me? What do you need me to do?"

Natalie's smile grew and her eyes softened. She'd known there would be no need to ask Matt to stay, but it felt so good to have it become a real fact. It didn't matter that the team had been on hiatus for over a year, Matt still had her back. The gods couldn't have made a more loyal friend if they'd tried.

"I need a bodyguard—a good one—so the nobles will shut up and quit trying to curry favor by foisting their guard captains on me. A Roszak will shut them all up, and there's no one I trust more than you."

Matt's lips curled in a flattered smile, but he sensed she wasn't done speaking yet.

"This room is as safe as anywhere is ever going to get, so we can still sleep without a watch, but anywhere outside of it is most certainly not safe. I'm not going to lie, you are going to be bored to tears—frustrated, too—but you'll have to sit in on meetings and visits with me. The nobles will bother you about everything from the way you dress and what your plans are for your estate and future, to what my plans and life entail. Ignore them if you want, or send them on wild goose chases, I don't care, but don't touch them or grossly offend them. That means no making fun of the ridiculous hats."

"Phooey," Matt chuckled. "Grathson's hats look like pieces of a taxidermist's collection, though."

"His are nothing. Lady Penelope's are sometimes actually alive," Natalie laughed before shaking her head and getting back to the task at hand. Her expression was serious as she brought her eyes up to meet Matt's. "Being my guard will make you a target, Matt."

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, "Being your friend makes me a target. It's not going to stop me. I'll need a cot in here, or I can take the window seat."

 **OOOOOO**

It didn't take Matt long to realize that maybe Natalie had publicly needed a guard, but what she'd really needed privately was a friend. Having known her for years let him see all the minute, tell-tale signs of building stress and frustration that she never let color her voice or expression in public. Her expression was impeccably poised and calm, while they were out among the nobles, retainers, and visitors, but he could see her fingers stiffen ever so slightly and her words became slightly more formal and controlled. Once they returned to her quarters, however, he listened patiently while she raged at her pillows or him, or simply sat in supportive silence when she chose to glare balefully out the window. The intensity of her stress varied from day to day, but the truth was that she was just about always one giant ball of high-strung nerves and frustration.

He wished, with no small amount of frustration of his own, that he knew what to do to help her relax. Before taking up the mantle of Lady Regent, he would have suggested a night out at a tavern, or tackling some satisfying monsters to incinerate. Neither of those solutions were options now, however, and their resources were limited to the confines of her room for as long as the assassination plot remained unresolved.

She needed a distraction, Matt mused as he watched Natalie flop onto her bed one evening to scream into a pillow. Something fun and relaxing, and unrelated to any of her duties as acting head of the royal family. A warm bath? Maybe. If there was one thing Natalie loved, it was the creature comforts a person could only find in an established residence. Without a word, he stood up to go start running one, leaving Natalie to attempt smothering herself on her bed.

The sudden sound of rushing water coaxed Natalie to roll her face to the side to stare in confusion at her bathroom door. Why the heck was Matt running a bath? They'd both washed that morning. Before long, the soft scent of lavender was drifting through the air and her confusion grew. Unable to hold her curiosity at bay, Natalie stood off the bed to pad into the bathroom just as the water was turned off. Matt stood up, shaking water off his hand, and turned to smile at Natalie.

"Come on and relax," he offered cheerfully as he walked past her back to the bedroom to give her some privacy.

Natalie stared after him for a few moments before looking at the bath—bubble bath, she mentally corrected when she finally really looked at the thick bubbles. Matt had run her a lavender scented bubble bath. She hadn't even known she had bubble soap in the first place. With a fond grin for his gesture, she began unlacing her gown to pull over her head and peeled away the various pieces of lace, underclothes, and jewelry to leave them crumpled on the floor, and sank up to her neck in the hot water.

Back in the bedroom, Matt had fluffed Natalie's pillows and straightened her bedsheets, and was now tidying up her desk. Papers, pens, and reference books littered the polished mahogany surface, ranging from census reports, to crop and livestock counts, to standing treaties. Grievance reports from both nobles and commoners, notes about upcoming events and meetings, a list of all the assassination attempts and details... On and on the different topics and papers went. A map was pinned to the wall above the desk, covered in pins and markers, and annotated in Natalie's neat handwriting. Finally, Matt settled on organizing the papers by topic and then by date and lining the stacks up in a neat row. It was as he was gathering up the last few scraps of notes that he found a nondescript, untitled, leather bound book. Curious, Matt opened the cover and found a number of small tally charts on the inside cover.

"Numbers of proposals: twenty-seven," Matt read aloud, uncertain whether it was upsetting or amusing. His eyes moved to the next chart, "Offers of strolls in the garden: ...sixty three. Geez, how many times has she gone on walks, then? Let's see what else..."

Matt's eyes glanced across a dozen small charts, ranging from bottles of perfumes used, to curses accidentally muttered in her presence, counting the tick marks and wondering about each one. The last three charts had been heavily crossed through, and he had to squint to make them out. And once he did, his heart fell.

"...Visits from Anna, Lance, Matt," he read aloud.

There were no marks on any of them, and he assumed Natalie had crossed them out because she'd given up on them coming to see her. Guiltily, he thought back to all the excuses he'd made to himself to avoid stepping foot in the castle—all the way up to Natalie's birthday: not wanting to make her feel obligated, not wanting to impose, not wanting to pressure, hatred of the attention he got... The reasons were so petty in hindsight. And all along, Natalie had been waiting for him, for any of them, to come see her. And all along, she'd been wound tighter and tighter. He doubted the pillow screams were something new, anyway.

What a friend he was.

Idly, he turned the first page to find a dated entry, and he abruptly realized the book must be Natalie's journal. Immediately, he shut the cover with a guilty wince and moved to set the book down on the stack of atlases and law references. But he hesitated to let go of it completely. It was a gross breach of privacy to read Natalie's personal diary, but on the other hand, she'd been awfully close-lipped about life in the castle, even after he'd lived and experienced it for several weeks. Reading her journal just might be the only way he'd get a true insight on her mental health.

"I shouldn't..." he mumbled with a guilty glance at the bathroom where he could hear Natalie humming and splashing.

This was his chance to know the truth without a censorship, his shoulder devil reasoned. Natalie would never tell him. She never told him about the important things in her life. It was her right and choice, of course, but it hurt a little that she didn't seem to trust him.

And she'd be entirely right not to trust him if he started snooping through her private things, his shoulder angel pointed out smartly. He had no right to breach her privacy so thoroughly.

But what if he found something that he could use to help her? Ultimately, however, he let go of the book and turned his back. If he was going to help Natalie, then he would do it right. With a nod to himself, he turned to polish Heaven's Gate. He didn't look up again until Natalie emerged over an hour later with wet hair and a relaxed smile on her face, bundled in a thick robe.

"Thanks, Matt, I needed that," Natalie sighed as she sank to sit on her bed and then laid back amongst her pillows.

"You don't say?" Matt teased as he set his weapon aside and stretched his legs out. "That pillow scream was easily twenty seconds long—a new record, even."

"Exaggerations aside, you have to admit the guy was being a pompous pill," Natalie chuckled. She rolled onto her side with one arm pillowed under her head to smile at Matt, "I'm proud of you for not yawning during his spiel."

"Yawning, no, but I confess to nearly sleeping with my eyes open," Matt joked with a faux-chastened expression.

"Don't let the guards hear that you're falling asleep on duty," Natalie warned with a sparkle of amusement glinting in her eyes.

Matt made a noncommittal noise before changing topics. "So, what's on the agenda tomorrow? Do you still have those couple of hours free after lunch?"

"I do. You mentioned something you wanted to get done then," Natalie agreed with a curious glint in her eyes.

"I need to duck into town to grab something I had commissioned. I know you're not supposed to leave the castle, but..."

Natalie's expression fell with disappointment and she shook her head. "I'd love to, but I can't. All the entrances have guards now, even the sewage gates. There's no way they'll let me through for an unofficial trip. You can still go, though. I'll just wait in here."

"I don't want to make you waste your only free time in here," Matt protested guiltily.

"It's fine. It's not like there's anywhere private in the castle I can go to that I haven't been to a thousand times before. I'll just read one of the books I had the librarian set aside for me," Natalie promised with a faint smile.

She made no mention or indication of her disappointment at not being able to spend the time with him. There was nothing exciting they could do in the castle anyway, so perhaps it was just as well that he had something he needed to do. Frankly, she was impressed that he hadn't been chaffing to go outside the castle more often.

 **OOOOOO**

"We worry about your... dignity... my lady."

Natalie paused in straightening the papers before her and looked up with an arched brow. "You worry about my _what_?"

The seven advisors each shifted uncomfortably and exchanged looks before one grew bold enough to explain.

"Your personal guard, Lord Roszak," he began hesitantly. "He has been, ah, sharing quarters with you, correct?"

Natalie's expression smoothed out into impassiveness as she began to suspect where this was going. It was probably a good thing Matt wasn't here at that moment. "Of course he has. He can hardly guard me from all the way over in the nobles' wing, after all."

"But there have been no requests for a cot to be sent up, or a bed erected," the advisor went on more boldly when he wasn't immediately shut down. The brief certainty began to waver as Natalie's eyebrow began arching again. "Ah, what I- _we_ mean to say is that it would be unseemly for a nobleman to be sleeping on the floor, and you have shown to be more... accommodating... than that, and-"

Natalie raised a hand to halt his rambling explanation, her eyes sharp, though her expression didn't shift from the mask of impatience. It would be so much easier if they would just come out and say what they were thinking and not try to talk their way around it—it was hardly a subtle point, after all. Yet bringing it up herself would make her seem guilty, even if it was clear to all eight of them what the issue was.

Well, she could play their game.

"Rest assured that Lord Mattius Roszak is not sleeping on the floor, gentlemen," she promised with a hint of coolness that wordlessly conveyed her distaste for their stalling.

A different advisor spoke up. "There have been rumors, milady, that you and Lord Roszak have been seen in rather... disreputably questionable positions and locations in the past. Several of the staff have wondered to your chastity, given the common knowledge of the lodgings at bars and taverns you have retired at in the past few years. And as you have refused any and all proposals, we seven have begun to become concerned whether you are perhaps already intimately involved with Lord Roszak. As you know, such rumors could cause a significant upset in the delicate political landscape you are currently navigating."

Natalie's eyebrows lowered and she stood up slowly and deliberately. "While I thank you all for your insights and attentions to idle gossip and prattle, who is or is not sharing my bed is not up for discussion," she stated frostily. Her eyes swept across the seven advisors, causing each of them to uncomfortably drop their gazes after just a brief look. "You make a vile and slanderous accusation against both house Lunetreil and house Roszak by stating what you do. Furthermore, I do not appreciate the insinuation that my chastity or lack there of is of any concern to any of you, or the other nobles, or anyone else, and I much less appreciate the insinuation that I am a young child in need of protecting from the more intimate and visceral sides of the human nature. I also do not appreciate the repeated mentions and urges to become the bride of one of your sons to further your own selfish and inane political goals. And I especially do not appreciate the insinuations that my close friend, whom I trust with my life, a noble of far higher birth and standing than any of you, is somehow not fit to be considered for my partner."

"We merely are concerned for the stability and longevity of your royal house," one advisor timidly tried to placate. The look Natalie fixed him with was withering, and he shrank back in his chair with a chastened expression.

Natalie flatly bit out. "I am currently next in line, but it will be up to my brother, the king, to continue the family lineage, which I trust he will do with a graceful and open mind. You are my advisors in the political field, and I value your individual insights, but, ultimately, all decisions are currently my own to make. I will hear no more talk of my royal wedding, or of my private affairs. Is that understood?"

The advisors each nodded meekly, and Natalie nodded in return before sitting back down.

"Lord Roszak is currently sleeping on the daybed in my room, but I will see to it that a proper bed is obtained and erected for him tonight. Now, is there anything else of import that we have not already discussed?" she went on in a level voice. When they remained still and silent, she stood up. "Very well, I shall see you all in four days time."

And with that, she swept from the room with a straight back and a firm stride. Out in the hall, the two guards she'd brought as an escort scrambled to fall into step behind her, all but trotting to keep up with her swift stride. They exchanged baffled looks at the obvious and unusual irritation coming from their regent, but ultimately kept silent and resumed their watch outside her door when she entered.

Inside the room, Natalie shot Matt—who was waiting for her with a highly disapproving expression for her leaving her room without him to accompany her—a sour look that told him she didn't want to hear a lecture. The swordsman's mouth tightened slightly, but he said nothing as she stormed past to the bathroom and slammed the door. He flinched slightly at the loud noise and wondered what had happened to cause her to lose the cool she'd cultivated and maintained during her tenure as regent. Almost without thought, his hand rose to brush his pocket where the gift he'd picked up for her waited in a small box.

Later, he silently decided. Natalie needed some alone time to calm down, and giving her a gift could definitely wait. Instead, he settled down on the day bed and stared out the window, watching the tiny figures of the castle grounds bustle about like ants on a hill as the sun dipped lower in the sky. That was where Natalie found him when she emerged from the bathroom two hours later.

"Sorry... for brushing you off before, and for leaving the room with only a note to explain," Natalie awkwardly mumbled after a few minutes where Matt didn't turn to face her.

Matt shrugged stiffly. "I'm only here as a convenient excuse. You're perfectly capable of looking out for yourself."

Natalie's expression fell some at the description and underlying bitterness in his voice. It was the first time Matt had directly or indirectly spoken of his displeasure of being stuck in the castle with anything other than humor or wistful jokes of running away. It was selfish, she miserably thought, to want him to stay because she'd missed him and enjoyed his companionship. And it was such a relief to know he was an effective ward against the nobles demands and worries about and for her life, which was also a selfish reason for her to want him to stay.

Maybe she could deal with two problems at once. If she sent Matt away, that would quell the rumors that they were sleeping together, and it would free him up to go back to traveling and adventuring. It would mean a return to loneliness and longing for her, of course, but it was only a matter of time before he heard the same rumors her advisors had heard, and he'd be much happier.

Natalie silently swallowed against the lump in her throat and turned for her dresser. "You can leave tomorrow, Matt." She was proud of herself for not letting her voice break over the words.

Matt twitched at her words and turned to look at her in disbelief and confusion. "You're joking, right? I'm not leaving while the assassins and the ones giving them orders are still out there."

"It's been four months since the last incident. I think it's safe to say the danger has passed," Natalie replied briskly as she headed for the screened off corner with a night gown in hand.

Matt frowned at her silhouette. Something was off here, and he was determined to figure out what it was. Natalie loved having him around, so why would she tell him to leave? And while four months was a fair length of time, people wanted her dead, and he was willing to bet they were patient enough to wait for her guard to come down. His mind presented him with an image of Natalie's haggard features when he'd first returned, and his frown deepened. No way was he letting her end up in that state again—not while he was breathing and could do something about it.

"What happened today?" he asked in a level tone. He watched the shadow of Natalie's movements briefly pause before resuming, but she said nothing. "At the meeting. You said the advisors needed to speak with you. What did they say? Do they think I'm responsible for the attacks?"

"Of course not," Natalie snorted. "It was the usual dry meeting of events and numbers, a few complaints, the odd marriage proposal, et cetera, et cetera."

Matt wasn't convinced—especially when Natalie came back around the screen dressed in a light crimson silk night gown with a perfectly blank expression. "That can't have been all. You wouldn't be trying to get rid of me if it was business as usual. And you didn't wait for me to get back, which took less than an hour, and that makes me think I wasn't supposed to hear what was being said."

"Matt, I'm tired. Can we just let it drop?" Natalie sighed as she slid into her bed. Idly, she recalled that she was supposed to be getting a bed in her room for Matt, but decided that could wait until morning.

Matt's jaw set and his eyes became guarded, but his voice softened. "Do you not trust me?"

Natalie stiffened, her eyes flying wide at the uncertain question. She sat up to look at Matt, who was watching her with a subtle longing and sorrow. "Of course I trust you," she soothed.

"No, you don't," Matt muttered bitterly. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't lie to my face about what's bothering you every single day, you wouldn't try to feed me some story to make me leave, and you wouldn't try to dodge my questions by pretending to go to sleep. You never climb into bed before the sun's finished setting."

"I do trust you! With my life!" Natalie protested.

The look Matt fixed on her was resigned and sad. "With your life," he agreed quietly, "but not with _you_. You've never, in all the years we've known each other, trusted me with all of you."

Natalie flinched at his words. "That's not true!" she weakly refuted.

"Then why is it so hard to tell me what's bothering you? I'm not blind, deaf, or stupid. I see the condescending looks people give you for being a woman and in charge. I hear the mutters that you'd be better off marrying someone and letting your husband do the work. I understand that you're trying to somehow protect me by keeping me in the dark. I see, hear, and understand all of it and more."

Tears welled in Natalie's eyes, and she longed for the simple days of fighting monsters and raiding tombs; the days when it was just a given that she and Matt were one cohesive unit that implicitly understood and supported each other. Now everything was going wrong, and she suddenly feared that maybe Matt _would_ leave, and leave for good.

"They think we're sleeping together," she mumbled in defeat and resignation. Her cheeks flushed pink as she dropped her gaze from Matt's intent stare, and she bitterly added, "They tried to give me a dressing down for potentially having sex outside of wedlock. And then they threw in another roundabout proposal. And people are talking because you're in here every night, and we're well known even outside of our house names. And you're bored here. And I'm being a selfish bitch by wanting you to stay. I don't want to be lonely, and all I ever seem to do is chase people away. And I'm tired of ruling. And I'm tired of the stress of having to seem composed and perfect all the time. And you're going to leave and never come back. And Lance and Anna haven't contacted me in months. And... and..."

Matt listened sympathetically as Natalie rambled off all of her worries and slowly trailed into crying. Silently, he rose from his seat to join her on the bed and wrapped her in a warm hug to let her cry against his chest. And she pressed tighter against him, shaking with emotion and still mumbling her worries intermittently broken up by sobs.

"Sh, sh, Natalie," he murmured as he slowly rocked her back and forth. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm sorry for making you even more stressed out."

"Really promise?" Natalie asked in a tiny whisper.

"Really, really promise. I won't leave you alone, and I'll always support you," Matt swore in a low, serious voice. He pushed her back a bit and gave her a half-smile as he brought a hand up to brush her hair from her teary cheeks. "Of course, that might be a conflicted vow if you insist I go. Then I'll have to pick one, and I pick staying."

"Gonna have to court martial you, huh?" Natalie said through a watery laugh. She rubbed her cheeks to try and dry them before shifting around to tuck against Matt's shoulder. "You can stay, if you want."

"I want," Matt promised as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Matt cleared his throat and reached to fumble with his jacket pocket. He brought out the small box he'd picked up from the jeweler's that afternoon, and offered it to Natalie with a light flush.

"I, uh, had this made. For you," he awkwardly announced. "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give it to you, but, um, I think maybe you need a gift now."

Natalie's own cheeks flushed with flattered delight as she accepted the gift. A small silk ribbon had been tied in a neat bow around the box, though it had been a little crumpled in the swordsman's pocket. A deft tug of her fingers was enough to remove the tie, and she eagerly pulled the lid off to see a small pendant. Her breath caught and she carefully lifted the jewelry off of the velvet cushion it rested on. A delicate gold chain tumbled loose, spilling over her fingers as she brought the necklace up to her eyes.

It was a simple, elegant design that had been crafted by a true master. Twin vines wrought from pure gold twisted in a single small spiral to hold a beautifully faceted, deep red gemstone that glittered in the light. At first, she thought it was a ruby, but it gave off an ethereal shimmer of rainbow light as it turned before her eyes. And the vines, upon closer inspection, were etched with minuscule runes all along them, too small to be read, but obviously an enchantment.

"It's beautiful," Natalie breathed as she brought it even closer and let it spin, inspecting it from every angle. "I've never seen a stone like this. Where did you get it? What is it?"

"It was a piece of a larger ore that I snagged from that wyrm's hoard. The appraiser I brought it to nearly fell over in shock when I set it out to figure out what it was. Turns out I'd managed to snag a hefty chunk of... pyrothrealadic, I think he called it, though apparently, the lay term is Heart Crystal. Super duper rare, and super duper valuable because of its color and uses in enchanting. The guy offered to buy it for his entire stock of valuables as well as a healthy credit. When I refused, he gave me this unsurprised but shrewd look and said I could buy the kingdom from you with the amount I had.

Natalie's eyes widened as she finally tore her eyes away from the necklace to gape up at Matt. "And you _didn't_ sell it?"

"What the heck would I do with an entire kingdom's worth of gold? I already have way more than I need," Matt scoffed with a shake of his head. His cheeks flushed a deeper red and he glanced to the side in embarrassment. "Nah, when I heard it was good for enchanting, I immediately thought of you. It, uh... The color reminded me of you, and I thought maybe you'd like to wear it? I was going to leave the enchantments up to you, but then I got here and learned about everything that was going on, and I, er, picked a couple for you while I was out today. To keep you safe when I and my own skills can't."

Natalie's heart melted for him all over again as her flush deepened. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she wryly thought that only Matt could drag her through the emotional gauntlet of crying mad and scared, to ridiculously flattered and loving in less than an hour. He'd quite literally given up the equivalent of a kingdom just to get her a gift. And he was so adorably awkward and graceless while he did it; yet even that ended with him considering her safety, health, and happiness over everything else.

Matt grunted when Natalie suddenly launched herself at him to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders in a tight embrace. They toppled over backwards on her bed with her lying on his chest and her face pressed against his neck while he blinked in stupefied and flustered surprise at the side of her head. After a few moments, his expression melted into a bright smile, and he brought his own arms up to hold her close and let his head relax back to smile up at the canopy overhead.

"I'm glad you like it," he breathed after a few moments of them lying there. He reluctantly let Natalie go when she pulled away to beam at him, and sat up to smile back at her. His eyes fell to where she still had the necklace clasped in her hand, the chain trailing across the sheets, and he nodded to it. "May I?"

With a breathless smile, Natalie held out the necklace for him to take. Her heart raced in her chest as he slowly and carefully reached around her head to buckle the clasp behind her neck. Her skin tingled when his hands brushed her skin while he gently pulled her hair from the loop to fall down her back. Yet he didn't pull away once the gleaming pendant rested against her collar bone, and one of his hands remained distractedly brushing through her hair. His eyes had become strangely intent as he studied her face, though she didn't know what he was suddenly looking for, and she felt her heart beat even more rapidly at his proximity and the way he watched her.

And then, suddenly, Matt leaned closer still, his head tilted to the side, and pressed his lips to hers. Natalie's eyes widened in stunned amazement even as her body collapsed against his and her throat let out a quiet moan. The hand that had been brushing her hair was now pressed to the back of her head to hold her in place as Matt tenderly ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip. Fire erupted from the touch, and Natalie's lips parted to suck in a gasp at the sensation, and her eyes shut in delight as she let him into her mouth.

Matt had long since shut his eyes, focused entirely on this intensely wonderful moment he'd sprung on the both of them. He honestly hadn't planned to kiss Natalie that evening, but she'd been so close, and her cheeks had been dusted just right with a blush, and she'd looked so dazed and intent at the same time as he'd placed the pendant around her neck... There were dozens of reasons why he should have pulled back: she was the crown princess and standing regent, her advisors were already upset at the mere rumors of her being involved with him, neither of them knew how to date, there was an assassination plot going on, she was horribly stressed, they'd just had a fight and a meltdown...

But despite all those reasons and more, his mind had shut up and let instinct take the reins. And now Natalie was pressing close enough for him to feel her racing heartbeat against his chest, quietly moaning, and her soft lips kept moving as she kissed him back, and he couldn't regret a damn thing. He'd wanted her for years, and now he had a real chance to have her, and he wasn't going to let her go; certainly not for the whims of conniving old men.

Natalie abruptly broke the kiss to reel back and suck in a great gasp of air, and he belatedly realized they both needed to breathe. For a few seconds, they both simply sat there and panted, eyes still shut, savoring the lingering heat and elation they both felt. And as soon as their eyes opened and met again, they lunged back forwards for a second kiss that was just as addictive as the first.

"Mm..." Natalie groaned in protest as Matt drew back the second time, his teeth lightly grazing her lower lip as they parted. Her eyes opened to stare up at the swordsman hovering over her, and she wondered when she'd ended up on her back. "Wow..."

Matt's lips curled in a dazed smile at her equally dazed assessment. "Wow," he agreed breathlessly.

His eyes trailed appreciatively across Natalie's face and the way her hair was fanned across her bed before languidly moving down her body in admiration. Reluctantly, he drew back and offered a hand to help her sit up where he couldn't resist stealing one last, chaste kiss. When they parted, they simply grinned at one another in elated content until Matt's smile suddenly curled a little further in cheeky mischief.

"Gosh, I do believe we've confirmed the rumors," he joked with a hand on his brow.

Natalie burst into laughter so strong she curled over to press her forehead against his shoulder. "Best start making the rafts for surviving the floods of crocodile tears," she agreed through her laughter.

Matt's smile softened into wonder as he listened to her laugh in such a carefree and joyful way. He hadn't heard that laugh in over a year, and it felt so good to hear it again. And when she pulled away to beam at him, he silently vowed to bring her as close to this happy or happier as often as he could. Of course, there were problems that would now have to be dealt with. Natalie seemed to read his concern in his eyes, because her smile faded to a smaller one, though it didn't quite leave her face.

"In all seriousness, we'll need to figure out how to present this," Natalie stated more calmly. "They're not going to be happy to hear we're courting, now."

Matt nodded regretfully and a little guiltily. "I'm sorry for the scolding you're probably going to get, but I don't regret this."

Natalie shrugged with a half-smile. "Eh, it'll be more of the same, really, and I made myself quite clear about them butting in on my private affairs. Furthermore, I, ah, may or may not have thrown your family name around when they tried berating me earlier, and reminded them that you're a noble of some of the highest birth. Not that it matters to either of us, of course, but they can't compare to that, and they know it."

"Finally, the Roszak name has a use again," Matt snorted. He couldn't resist reaching out to finger a lock of Natalie's hair, twisting it around his finger and letting it slide loose. "They'll probably make the argument that I'll be distracted from protecting you, that I won't be rational. And they might try to claim I'm just using your position and power to better my standing. That's how they think, after all."

"And you're not bettering your standing? None of this is for selfish reasons?" Natalie teased gently as she reached up to curl her fingers around his. She brought his hand up to her cheek and pressed it to her skin as she smiled at him. "I'll deal with the old farts, don't worry. You just focus on what you do best: keeping me safe and happy."

Matt smiled back and nodded. "Sounds good. Gotta keep my investment safe. I don't think I'll be getting my heart back in one piece, after all."

Natalie's cheeks flushed, even as her eyes shone. "I'll keep it safe, I promise."

And Matt knew she would. If there was anyone in the world he could trust with his health, his happiness, and his future, it was Natalie. He'd already trusted her with his life for years, and, he suspected, he'd unknowingly trusted her with his heart for years, too. There would be bumps in the road for sure, but there had always been bumps in their lives, and it hadn't stopped them yet. And this latest development in their relationship had already shown itself to be a good thing. Natalie was smiling— _really_ smiling—like she hadn't been in far too long.

"I suppose to placate them, I'd better get that second bed up here."

Matt made a face in disappointment, but nodded. "Yeah, probably should give them something to make them think we won't just be boning every single night and producing bastards." His eyes flashed as he looked across Natalie again and he added, "Though I certainly wouldn't object to a little mischief."

Natalie had thought her cheeks couldn't get any redder that evening, but the very clear desire in Matt's gaze was enough to set off new levels of blushing. She couldn't deny wanting the same, though, but perhaps it would be wiser to wait until the latest developments had settled down before stoking the fires again. Besides, she had Matt all to herself, now, and if she'd already waited six years to sleep with him, then another few weeks would be nothing.

Oh, how she regretted that assumption. Knowing Matt was hers now, but being unable to have sex with him was a new level of torture. Every time he brushed against her, every time he held her hand, every time he kissed her, she wanted so much more. Still, it was the wise decision. Her advisors, once they'd found out, had been predictably upset with her, and by extension, Matt. They'd presented a half dozen different reasons why an affair now was a terrible idea and a horrible distraction, but, ultimately, they'd been forced to swallow their complaints. Matt had seen to that.

"If you think lords of your standing can stop me from courting this lovely woman, then you'd best ready your swords for duels," he'd flatly stated in a serious voice when they'd tried appealing to him. His eyes had been cold and unamused as they then tried to encourage him to reconsider, or at least postpone, and his voice had had a hint of mocking disgust as he'd said, "And here we thought you'd be pleased that your princess has chosen a noble worthy of her high standing. Certainly a high noble of a distinguished line such as myself is an acceptable match to be a potential consort to a crown royal."

Even Natalie's eyes had minutely widened at that. Matt had, effectively, stated that if Natalie asked, he would marry her. The thought was flattering, amazing, and horrifying all at once. As much as she loved him, she'd never once considered marriage for herself in the future—not even to him. On some level, during their years of adventuring together, she'd always figured that even if he had confessed to her, she would never be able to marry him because of the vast difference in their social classes: a marriage to a ruffian fighter would never have been approved. Even after learning the truth of Matt's family and lineage, she'd never considered marrying him—either because she'd so firmly put the thought from her mind, or because she simply hadn't had the time to consider how he could potentially fit into her life in the future. But, clearly, Matt had considered it.

Later that evening, she'd tentatively brought up his words, and Matt smiled awkwardly.

"It was more to shut them up than anything else," he admitted as he peeled his shirt off to flop on his new bed. He rolled his head to the side to smile at her, a flush on his cheeks, and added, "I mean, I'm serious about this, but I think three weeks is a little soon to plan for a wedding, and I'd rather take this easy, if it's all the same to you. Besides, you've got enough on your plate already without a ceremony to freak out over."

Natalie felt her shoulders relax at his words. "Oh, good, because I was worried I'd offend you if I said I don't want to get married yet."

Matt shrugged and pulled his quilt up to his chin. "Marriage is cool and all, but I don't need a document and a priest to tell me you're mine and I'm yours, and we've already basically thrown the other traditional stuff out the window. I hope, anyway, because I sure as hell have not made any plans on waiting until marriage to have you."

"Well, when you say it like that, it does seem a little overrated," Natalie chuckled with a distinctly pleased smile at the thought that he was hers. She lay down on her own bed and mumbled, "And I would hardly be the first heir to sleep with his or her boyfriend or girlfriend before taking the vows. I heard mom and dad both did it, too."

"See? No issue. G'night, Natz."

 **OOOOOO**

Matt pushed the pain aside and focused on the feeling that someone was in Natalie's room. He didn't see how they had gotten in: the protective barrier had remained up across the balcony door and broad windows—none of which were open—and the guards outside the door hadn't changed shifts, yet. But his senses, carefully honed over years of fighting monsters to detect the slightest changes in mana, told him there was definitely someone hidden in here.

Luckily, Natalie was still hosting the dinner celebrating a successful harvest, so he didn't have to worry about protecting her from the threat. Unluckily, Natalie was still hosting the dinner celebrating a successful harvest, and he would have really appreciated her aid with the clotted slash gluing his shirt to his side before he fought another assassin.

Icy eyes cautiously scanned the dim interior before pausing on a suspicious lump under a blanket on the day bed. Matt's fingers tightened on his sword as he silently moved in on his target. A few seconds passed in tense silence before he used a pulse of wind to remove the blanket and lunged to attack the unsuspecting person.

Only pillows rested under the blanket, skewered by his sword. Matt froze at the revealed diversion, and whipped around to see calm and amused eyes watching him from behind the door.

"I could have killed you," Matt snapped, adrenalin washing out of his body as the looming threat vanished.

"Which is why I put pillows there and not myself," Anna chuckled as she stepped out of the shadows. "I'm glad it's you that came looking, and not someone else."

Matt sheathed his sword with a final glance at the mutilated stack of pillows. His gaze returned to Anna as the ranger moved to sit on the edge of the low table—forgoing the plush chair not three feet away. "How did you even get in here without Natalie getting receiving a message? For that matter, what are you even doing here?"

Anna's eyes darkened and her smile fell away into upmost seriousness. "Lance has been captured. I need help rescuing him."

" _What?_ Where? How? By who?"

"The Treails. They caught on to us following their smugglers, and laid an ambush on the cliffs west of Goldenbrick," Anna replied bitterly. Her shoulders slumped miserably as she let her gaze drift to the side in shame. "We were out-positioned and outnumbered, and they cut us off from running. Lance... He pushed me off into the river to get me away, but he didn't jump after me. By the time I got back up to the site, they were gone, and by the tracks, they were dragging a body."

Matt's frown deepened, and he lowered himself to sit on the day bed beside the ruined pillows. His side twinged in reminder of his wound, that had probably been reopened in his lunge, but he ignored it in the face of one of his friends and teammates being kidnapped. "He's probably still alive. They wouldn't drag a corpse with them, after all..."

Lance would need saving, that was non-negotiable, but Natalie still needed protecting, also a non-negotiable. The assassins were back out of hiding, and already making attempts on her life. Ideally, he would leave Anna here to guard Natalie in his place while he went to rescue Lance, but there were several problems with that. One, Lance was hardly a pushover, yet he had been overpowered and restrained; that meant his captors were powerful and dangerous, so one person going to rescue him alone would be foolhardy. Two, the council of advisors would hardly agree to trading a pure blooded Roszak for a commoner archer from a remote village in the woods, no matter how skilled she was. They would fight bitterly over Anna guarding Natalie during such a potential crisis, and Anna would have no sway with them. Blood, lineage, and wealth meant everything to the people here—none of which Anna had. Natalie could perhaps overrule their arguments, but she was already in a tenuous position because of her involvement with Matt, and because of her recent projects benefiting the people at the cost of gold not going to the rich.

"That's what I figure," Anna agreed, unaware of Matt's thoughts. She took in a deep breath to add that she suspected she might know where to find Lance, but paused and stiffened. "I smell blood."

Matt, lost in thought and only partially listening, waved a dismissive hand—his left hand, Anna noted suspiciously. Her eyes scanned his right side before falling on a patch of shirt far darker in color than the rest.

"You're hurt," she stated accusingly as she stood up to inspect the wound. Matt didn't fight her pulling his shirt up, though he did hiss at the way the fabric pulled away from the wound—a rather long slash just below his ribs. "What happened?"

"Assassins are after Natalie," Matt grunted as Anna ripped part of his already ruined shirt off to begin wiping away the blood to better see the wound. "I'm her guard, and I guess they figured it would be easier if they got rid of me first."

"That explains why you're in the castle, attacking harmless pillows," Anna noted lightly, though an undercurrent of concern colored her voice. She pressed her hand firmly against the now sluggishly oozing wound and summoned up her healing magic. "There, that should do it. It wasn't such a bad cut—didn't hit anything important, anyway." She sat back on her heels and watched while Matt began changing into a clean shirt. "I didn't realize there was an assassination plot going on. That explains the extra guards outside, and why they wouldn't let me in. And why Natalie's room is under such heavy guard."

"How _did_ you get in here, anyway?" Matt asked, muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head. He shook his hair loose from the neckline once his head was through and added mildly, "I mean, the place is on a pretty tight lockdown."

"I _live_ for getting into places unseen," Anna joked with a grin. She shook her head with a laugh and added, "But seriously, once the guards turned me away from the gate, I just scaled the wall and climbed in through the window. Natz must've set the barrier to let us through, or it just isn't strong enough to keep people with high enough mana out."

" _Just scaled the wall,_ " Matt repeated in a sarcastic mutter. "It's only several hundred feet and guarded by constant patrols and wards. No biggie."

Anna's smile grew a little wider. "Anyway, where's Natz now?"

"Dinner. Mandatory celebration for the harvests being brought in. Dunno why it's mandatory, but there you have it. Natz was spouting something about keeping people fat and happy, so maybe nobility just like a good feast."

"Like you _don't_ like a good feast?" Anna chuckled. "For that matter what are you doing fighting assassins in the halls when there's a feast going on? I mean, you can't be not invited. You're a Roszak, after all."

Matt's expression soured. "I was there for the start of it, but certain... circumstances... required me leaving."

He didn't want to get into the snide remarks being thrown his way that Natalie had to smile through with gritted teeth. He turned away from Anna's searching stare, and headed for the door. "C'mon. Natz needs to hear about Lance, and about the latest hit."

The guards outside the room did a double take at the woman following behind Matt, but a silent gesture of assurance from the swordsman had them standing down. The journey to the dinning hall was swift and silent, and at Matt's command, Anna waited just outside the cracked door while he went in to retrieve Natalie. She watched through the crack as Matt wove his way through the crowd with a few polite nods and exchanges, though she couldn't miss the sneers also sent his way. Natalie was engrossed in conversation with the man beside her at the head of the long table, and Anna noted how elegant the mage looked, dressed up in a gown sewn with gemstones, and her hair piled in a complicated knot on her head above her glittering tiara. Still, her demure smile rang false with the ranger, and not for the first time, Anna felt a pang of sympathy for her friend at having to be stuck here placating a kingdom of subjects who knew next to nothing about her, nor cared to learn.

Then Matt was intervening in the conversation, apparently having found a point less rude to do so, and he bent down to whisper in Natalie's ear. Anna watched Natalie's eyes narrow ever so slightly before she stood up and excused herself for a few moments, but not before calling for the fine wine and desserts to be brought out. The crowd parted before her as she made her way to the door with Matt trailing along behind her, though curious gazes followed them all the way until the door was shut.

"Anna?" Natalie greeted with a baffled smile and a tight hug. "What brings you all the way up here?"

Anna returned the embrace tightly, and idly noted the rich scent of vanilla surrounding the mage, though it was tainted by the unfamiliar acrid stench that seemed to hang about the castle. "I wish it was just to visit, but I need to borrow Matt to save Lance's sorry butt," she replied with a tight smile as she stood back.

"He and Anna were ambushed while stalking those smugglers linked to the Treails, and he couldn't get away," Matt explained when Natalie shot him a shocked glance. "I doubt he's dead, but I also doubt he'll be in very good condition. Smugglers aren't exactly known for their kindness to prisoners."

"Well what the hell are you both doing here? Go save him!" Natalie instantly urged.

"There's more," Anna interrupted with a shake of her head and a glance at Matt. "I heard about the assassins. Matt just had a run in with one."

Natalie's eyes widened and she whipped around to scan Matt for injury, and noticed for the first time that he'd changed out of the stuffy shirt he'd begrudgingly agreed to wear that evening.

"It wasn't a very serious injury, and I already healed it," Anna assured calmly, "but I can't see him leaving you here alone, unprotected."

 **OOOOOO**

A flash of red in a cell on his left had Matt skidding to a halt and backing up three steps. "Lance," Matt breathed worriedly as he took in the crumpled figure shackled to the wall of the dingy and filthy cell.

The gunner was in terrible condition, his pale skin covered in old and fresh wounds, and streaked with grime and blood; several of the cuts looked infected. His arms were held above his head by rusted chains, and his ankles had been chained together with only enough links to allow a slow, clumsy hobble. The only clothing left to him were the tattered remains of his pants. The cold air and stone had left him shuddering, and someone had cruelly left a bowl of weak soup sitting just out of range of his feet—as though his chained arms had afforded him any way to eat it even if it had been closer.

"Lance," Matt called more loudly as he began trying the keys on the ring he'd stolen in the lock on the door.

The call roused Lance, and tired eyes opened and rose to meet the swordsman's worried gaze. A ghost of a smirk flickered across Lance's features, and he leaned his head against one of his arms as though his neck just didn't have the strength to hold it upright.

"...I knew you'd come," he rasped hoarsely as he watched Matt fumble with the keys. The speech aggravated his throat and he coughed a few times against the persistent burning sensation in his lungs before finishing, "Must mean Anna made it, huh? That's good..."

Matt finally got the cell opened and darted to his friend's side. Lance's condition looked far worse up close, his face glistening with sweat even though he shuddered, his eyes were glazed with fever, and every breath he took wheezed in his chest. "Shit, you're in really bad shape," Matt cursed under his breath as he undid the shackles holding the gunner's wrists and ankles.

With no bindings holding him upright, Lance slumped against Matt as soon as he was loose, and Matt fumbled with his adventure pouch to withdraw a warm jacket to tuck around his friend's shoulders. Next came a canteen which he held steady against cracked lips as Lance gratefully drank the cool water. He didn't voice his concern of how much heat Lance was giving off, or at the faint whine the gunner let out once he'd drained the entire canteen.

"C'mon, let's get you someplace more comfortable," Matt murmured as he stood up, hoisting Lance with him by an arm around his shoulders.

"Sure," Lance mumbled distantly, focused more on keeping his vision clear and the water he'd just drunk in his stomach.

Every step was an exhausting trial, and he leaned almost entirely on Matt as they slowly made their way out of the cell and down the barred hall. Shadows writhed with mocking faces that caused him to shrink closer to Matt, even as some part of his brain informed him that it was just his fever messing with his mind. Throughout it all, Matt remained a firm and constant pillar of strength against his side, supporting his weary frame, and confidently crushing every shadow under his feet. The last thought he had was that his best friend was really warm, which was a nice change from cold, damp stone.

"Shit," Matt cursed, catching Lance when the gunner suddenly became a complete dead weight as he passed out. He quickly maneuvered Lance around to lift him in his arms, head resting on his shoulder, and trotted out of the dungeons.

Anna was waiting for him exactly where he'd left her, arrow and cold gaze directed at the captured garrison and smugglers. Still, she glanced around and sucked in a silent gasp at the condition Lance was in.

"Is he...?" she asked through a swallow.

"He's alive, and he'll recover," Matt assured her with a tense smile. "He's way too stubborn a bastard to let this stop him." His eyes shifted to the men kneeling before them. "As acting Lord, I'm taking control of this estate and all of its assets until such a time that the royal family decides what to do with all of you. You will wait out that time in the dungeons. I highly suggest you go peacefully, because I'm in a very, _very_ bad mood."

Even Anna flinched at the bite to Matt's voice. If there was one thing to know about him, it was that he was fiercely defensive of his friends and team, and he now had one of those friends beaten and unconscious in his arms with a high fever. Wisely, the prisoners followed without complaint as she brought them downstairs and locked them into individual cells. The bars would likely be enough to hold them, and she and Matt had already disarmed them, but just in case, she added her own wards to the locks. She didn't believe for one instant that none of the smugglers didn't have lock picks stashed on them somewhere.

As soon as they were secured, she hurried to find where Matt had taken Lance. A nervous maid led her up to the second floor and she found Matt leaning over Lance. He and a second maid were cleaning and bandaging the many wounds, and she swallowed at how battered Lance was.

"How is he?" she asked softly as she moved to take over from the maid.

"Malnourished, dehydrated, running a high fever from, I assume, these infected wounds, and he's having trouble breathing," Matt reported tersely as he wound a strip of bandage around a very deliberate gash on Lance's arm. "I think, based on some of these, they were interrogating him."

Anna tried to hide the shaking in her hands as she touched the back of her hand to Lance's cheek. As Matt had said, his temperature was far higher than normal, and his expression was tense as though he were in pain, even while unconscious. "Has he said anything?"

"He was awake and leaning on me when I brought him out of the cell, but he passed out before we left the dungeon. He slurred a little when he spoke, but seemed lucid enough." He didn't mention the way Lance had been shackled with food tortuously kept just out of reach, or the way the gunner had flinched at the shadows.

"Bastards," Anna growled with tears in her eyes. "He was only here for a couple weeks, and they did this to him."

Her eyes shut and she pressed her hands to Lance's chest as she summoned up her healing magic. There was nothing she could do for the fever or infection, but she could heal some of the bruises, cuts, and fractures. Lance seemed to relax in place as he was healed, and he let out an unconscious sigh of relief, but didn't wake up.

Anna let out a sigh of her own and sat on the bed once she'd finished, curling her hand around his. "Don't worry, we'll get you back on your feet as quick as we can," she assured him with a shaky smile.

Behind her, Matt was quietly thanking the maids for their help, and directing them to prepare a broth to feed Lance and the prisoners. His voice was hard as he warned them against freeing any of the prisoners for any reason, and that if there was a problem, then he would personally handle it. They couldn't tell if he meant handle them or the prisoners, but they nodded regardless.

After the two women were gone, he turned back to where Anna was smoothing a hand through Lance's hair. "I need to write to Natz about this mess. Will you be alright by yourself for a little while?"

Anna nodded silently, and listened to the door shut before letting her shoulders slump and the tears in her eyes run down her cheeks. "You idiot," she choked out at Lance with no real heat to the insult, and her touch was still gentle. "I don't need you being a hero for me, and especially not if... if _this_ is what happens to you. Next time, we fight together, no heroic sacrifices, jerk. I can take care of myself without you throwing yourself under the ax."

Even as she said that, she wondered if maybe the fact that Lance had pushed her out of harm's way had been his way of saying she wasn't a help, but a hindrance to him. Saving her from trouble had never seemed to be a priority to him before, after all. Yet all she could see in her mind's eye was the sight of Lance stepping in front of her protectively as they were cornered, and she hated that he'd saved her and not himself, too. She wondered if he would have done the same if he'd known what shape he'd end up in.

Lance slept on, leaving Anna to stew in miserable silence with only uneven, raspy breaths to fill the void.

 **OOOOOO**

Confusing images swam in and out of Lance's focus as a fire seemed to sear him from within. None of what he saw made sense, and he couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming. Once, he thought he'd seen Matt's worried smile as he was fed something warm and bitter before it had morphed into Anna's tearful scowl. The ranger's mouth had opened to give him what he assumed was some sort of lecture, but all he heard was NoLegs meowing at him. Sometimes, he was abandoned to the mercy of rough hands and shadowy figures that reached to hurt him, and he cried for help. Sometimes, he was even answered.

The worst images of all were when he realized he'd failed, and Anna was hurt after all, even though he was _sure_ he'd gotten her out of the way in time. And where were Matt and Natalie? Why weren't they helping? Hadn't they forgiven him? Surely they wouldn't leave him here to burn alive at the hands of horrible people. Anna certainly didn't deserve that fate. Yet he could hear her, and he hurt all over, all the time, and it never seemed to end. The soft whispers weren't enough when he choked on the fire and his pain, and he needed more of the cool touch that brushed his face and neck.

It seemed like a band wound tighter and tighter around his chest before suddenly snapping, and with the break came a blessed cool. He could have cried at the abrupt loss of the fire. Someone was there, massaging his head, and he leaned into the touch as exhaustion like he'd never felt before had him sinking into blissful oblivion.

 **OOOOOO**

It had been two days since Lance's fever had broken, and Matt still couldn't get Anna to get some real rest in a real bed. The ranger refused to budge from the chair at Lance's bedside, insisting that she was fine even as the shadows under her eyes grew darker. He half-believed that she hadn't slept since the gunner's fever had first begun climbing a week ago, so it was a surprise when he came in one morning to see her slumped over in the chair with her head resting on one arm and her other hand curled around Lance's. Matt gave a faint smile at the sight and adjusted the throw blanket that had fallen around her hips back up around her shoulders before moving to check on Lance.

Lance was peacefully sleeping, his chest rising and falling evenly with each breath, finally no longer rasping and wheezing, or tossing and moaning. Still, Matt measured out a dose of medicine and carefully lifted the gunner's head to feed it to him. Halfway through the process, Lance let out a near-inaudible groan, and his eyes fluttered open. Matt's face broke into a brilliant smile and he pulled the medicine away.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" he asked softly, drawing Lance's sleepy gaze to him.

Lance seemed to have to think about that, thoughts churning sluggishly before he made a face. "Sticky. Gross. Like I should be sleeping for another ten years." His lips twitched upwards at the soft laugh Matt let out, and he let out a yawn before waking up a little further and eyeing his friend. "So you really did come. I wasn't imagining that."

"I'd never leave a friend in an enemy's cell," Matt swore. His eyes were studying Lance's face critically. "You look like you're feeling a lot better. Not saying much with how you were, of course, but it's something."

"I don't feel like Natalie set me on fire anymore, no," Lance agreed with a faint smile. His expression fell some as he suddenly realized how weird it was that Matt was here. "Wait, is Natz here, too?" And as soon as he asked that, he remembered something important. His memory was fuzzy, but hadn't Anna been in trouble, too? "Where's Anna?!"

"Calm down," Matt chided, pressing a hand to Lance's shoulder to keep him lying down when he began shifting to try and sit up. He smiled and nodded across Lance's body as he added, "Anna's on your other side, asleep. She hasn't moved in days. As for Natz, she's still back at the castle. She wanted to come out here, of course, but that isn't possible right now."

Lance was barely listening as he rolled his head to the other side to see that Anna was, in fact, safe and sound, and asleep. He realized he must be more out of it than he'd thought to have not noticed that the ranger was right there, and holding his hand. His eyes scanned her face for a few moments before deciding that she was indeed fine, and a great pressure lifted off his chest. Matt broke him out of his thoughts a few seconds later.

"So, Anna told me how you got her away. Why didn't you follow after her?"

"A few reasons," Lance replied with a slight shrug. "One, I was a distraction to keep them from following her. Two, I, uh..."

Matt frowned when Lance trailed off with a sheepish, almost embarrassed expression. "What?"

"I- This is really stupid, but, er, I can't... I can't swim," Lance admitted awkwardly. "I would have drowned if I'd gone into the river."

Mat sat back with a huff of surprise, wracking his brain as he tried to think of if Lance had ever been in water above his chest. The only instance he could think of had been back on the Rocky Beach when a squid had pulled him off the dock, but Natalie had fished the gunner out swiftly, and his shoulder had been dislocated—hardly a telling moment for swimming. Beyond that, Lance had always stayed in wading depth, citing his weapons clogging in the water and hating having to clean them, and none of them had ever challenged it.

"I had no idea," Matt finally admitted quietly. "Remind me to teach you sometime soon, when we have an opportunity." Even as he said that, he didn't doubt that Lance would refuse to bring it up again out of a sense of misguided pride—the man hated admitting to being bad at something.

And sure enough, Lance made a noncommittal sort of grunt before scooting up the bed to boost himself up into sitting, and ignoring Matt's disapproving cluck. He blinked dazedly as the room spun from the resulting head-rush before settling into place. A soft noise had both him and Matt glancing at Anna as her face tightened before her eyes fluttered open. Lance held her gaze as she blinked at him for a moment before she jerked upright.

"Lance! You're awake!" Anna gasped with a delighted smile.

 **OOOOOO**

"He's missing! Again!"

Matt heaved a sigh and leaned his cheek on one hand as he turned another page. He didn't look up at the aggravated woman pacing the rug in front of the desk. "Anna, he's a grown man, a capable warrior, and we're in safe territory right now. He'll be fine," he told her in a tired voice for what felt like the thousandth time. He silently mouthed her next words to himself as his eyes scanned the next few lines of the papers he was reading, having heard her rant so many times he could repeat her words, her tone, and the motions that went with them.

Anna didn't seem to notice his lips moving as she threw her arms in the air. "He's recovering from torture and malnourishment! He isn't supposed to be walking about, yet! And on top of that, he-"

Matt tuned her out as he focused in on a few interesting lines of acquired gold from a "Source X." There were few things he hated more than sitting still, and tracing intel back through written source combined two of his least favorite activities: sitting still, and researching. But Natalie needed solid evidence to justify his abrupt takeover of a Treail manor, which meant he needed a solid link between the noble and the smugglers.

And Anna, he noted with no small amount of disgruntlement, was getting louder in her tirade. Lance was fine, he was sure, and certainly didn't need a babysitter following him around and keeping him tucked into a bed like some kind of invalid. In fact, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it was Anna's constant coddling that was driving the gunner to sneak out onto the grounds—Lance would do it just to irritate her, and never mind proving a point.

"Anna," Matt interrupted flatly, cutting into her rant about how it wouldn't kill Lance to let her know where he was going. He finally brought his eyes up to meet Anna's anxious green ones and arched a brow. "Lance is twenty-four, a dangerous gunman, an adept swordsman, and an accomplished mage. He has nearly a decade of combat and field experience, and the most brilliant mind I've ever known. On top of that, he's well over his illness, stayed in bed for over a week of rest and recovery, and you personally warded the grounds. He's not dumb enough to go waltzing off on his own, yet, and while he is still a little underweight, he isn't about to keel over from lack of nourishment. What the hell do you think is going to happen to him?"

Anna scowled at Matt's logical and reasonable words. She threw herself down on the chair across from the desk and glared at her lap. But when Matt merely began looking over yet more papers, leaving her to stew in silence, she felt her anger begin to melt away leaving only anxiety and shame behind. Realistically, she knew Matt was right: Lance wasn't in such bad shape now that he needed to stay in bed. But still...

"I just... I need to know he's alright," Anna mumbled. "He got really hurt, and it wouldn't have happened if I had been strong enough to help him before."

Matt blinked twice before bringing his eyes back up to gape at Anna in astonishment. "Hey, what happened to him wasn't your fault," he refuted firmly.

Anna shook her head with a miserable expression. "Maybe I wasn't the one to chain him up and torture him, but I didn't keep him from it, either. And he knew I wasn't enough, which is why he threw me off the cliff and into the river."

"Anna, there were thirty of them in an ambush. What do you think would have happened if he hadn't saved you? Treail certainly wasn't going to send me a card saying he'd captured you both. Natalie and I might never have known what had happened for months longer—during which time one or both of you could have been killed."

"He wouldn't have shoved _you_ off to save you," Anna muttered bitterly. "What's thirty men to a Roszak, after all?"

Matt ignored the jibe at his family name, knowing Anna was just hurting and lashing out. "No, he wouldn't have shoved me away, or even could if he tried it," he conceded evenly. He watched Anna snort before continuing mildly, "But that doesn't mean he wouldn't want to. Lance will deny it to his dying breath if you ever asked him to his face, but he doesn't like seeing us get hurt; he would push all of us away if it meant saving us, me included. And maybe yes, in this case, he wouldn't have pushed me away. I can, have, and likely will someday again, take on thirty people and come out better for it. I'm much more suited for the close combat that would have come from a mass ambush than you. And, frankly, Lance isn't strong enough to physically push me away, even if he tried to."

Tears began to burn in Anna's eyes as Matt seemed to confirm her worst fears that she was just too weak to help Lance. Maybe it would be best if she just stayed away from the gunner if all she was to him was a dead weight.

"Great pep talk," Anna mumbled sarcastically as she stood up again.

Matt shook his head doggedly, "Anna, my point is that it was a bad situation where you both should have had back up, but you didn't. Lance isn't nearly as skilled in close combat as myself, and neither are you. And realistically, they likely had a mix of close and ranged attackers, so even I would have had trouble. Lance's solution wasn't ideal, but it was probably the best one you guys had. He got you out to get help, which you did in an admirably swift fashion."

"But it wasn't enough!" Anna shouted. "He didn't save himself, and I didn't get back fast enough to save him! And now I can't stop worrying that he's being hurt, and he won't take me seriously because I'm too weak to be worth his time!"

Matt opened his mouth to keep arguing his point, but shut it again without saying anything, and stood up. He stepped around the desk to hold the door to the study open and waved Anna through. "C'mon, I can tell you need to hear this from him, not me. Let's go track the bastard down so he can logic you out of this stupid loop you're caught in."

Anna balked in the doorway and vehemently shook his head. "No. He doesn't need to see me—he made that clear."

"Anna, you can't expect to just cut yourself off from him. He'll figure you out in less than a week, and he'll get upset that you don't want to talk to him," Matt chided through a sigh.

"You have that backwards: _he_ doesn't want to talk to _me_."

"I suspect he wouldn't mind you talking to him if you'd quit treating him like an invalid," Matt countered drolly as he stepped past her to lead the way. "He hates sitting still nearly as much as the rest of us, and I'm sure you can sympathize with the former prisoner about being shut up in one room with a warden monitoring him."

He didn't see the way Anna's eyes flickered with upset as she reluctantly fell into step behind him, nor did he suspect anything when she volunteered to split up to cover ground more quickly. It took almost three hours to find Lance, and Matt was understandably irritable at the waste of time—especially when he found out the gunner had only gone out onto the balcony of his room, and was napping against the wall just out of sight of the door.

"What's up?" Lance asked tiredly, blinking lazily up at where Matt was standing with his arms crossed and a scowl in his face.

"What's up is I'm sick of having to spend hours finding you because Anna comes to me in a tizzy that you've wandered off again. Would it kill you to leave her a note?" Matt bit out. "I've got a lot of paperwork to look through before I can go back to the castle, and I'd appreciate it if you'd quit making more work for me."

Lance arched a brow before turning his head to lean back against the wall again and look out across the idyllic grounds of the manor. "Anna worries too much, you know that. Just tell her I'm fine and she doesn't need to worry."

Matt rubbed a hand over his face ending at pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to alleviate the forming headache. "You think I haven't tried that? The woman has a guilty streak a mile long and is completely immune to my reasoning. And you, mister-can't-leave-a-note, are making her guilt trip worse. You know she's blaming herself for what happened to you?"

Lance started and turned to look back at Matt in surprise. "She's, _what?_ What the hell for?"

"She thinks she should have fought with you so you could both end up in prison cells, and the fact that you didn't let her meant she was too weak to help. Hell if I know how she reached that conclusion," Matt snorted sarcastically.

Lance's face fell. That certainly hadn't been his intention by getting out of bed every day. He'd been trying to show Anna that he was going to be just fine and that she didn't need to worry, not that he thought she was useless.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _A_ _lot_ _of_ _you seem to like this one/have asked for more of it. So, here you are, another several thousand words continuing Heiress. It's the usual mess of portions of the plot with missing connectors, but hopefully enough to satisfy you._

 _ **Replies to guest reviews:**_

 _ **Anonymous** : If i manage to think of more to add, it will be vomited up here, you can be sure. xD Hope you've been enjoying EBF5 as much as I have!_

 _ **Miles or Arrow:** Be spoiled again! I hope. It's the least I can do, given how egregiously I'm ignoring SotB and TLRH. :P_

 _As for the last chapter, I have ideas for scenes, but not really for a plot. So there will probably be additions to the fic, but no completion. :P_

 _ **Dove** : I feel like it's been quite awhile since I've seen you. Glad to see you're still reading and enjoying!_

 _Yes, I've been enjoying poaying around with the modern AU where magic used to be a thing, but isn't any longer. It leads to a lot of intersting scenarios and ideas. Now if only i could figure out a worthy plot to tie it all together..._

 _And, yes, Matt is very knowledgeable, and understands more about their (humanity's) history, achievements, and progress than all the books and historians combined. Perks of being long lived, and having lived those times. But there are draw backs to that. He doesnt actually have a good grasp on how MUCH time has passed. He thinks it's been seven hundred years, but it's actually been much, much longer, which is why nobody has any real records of the emagical aspects of the world. Current headcannon is after he sealed the magic, there was a massive book burning panic event of a sort, so most records, schools, tools, etc. were destroyed. The fun part is that Matt presented Lance's technology and advances as the new way to adapt and cope with the world after the loss of magic's convenience. Lance will, of course, lord that over him. xD_

 _Like in the games, Anna has practical knowledge more so than booksmarts. She isn't dumb, but she finds it hard to concentrate on things that she can't perceive the practical use of. That makes pretty much all higher sciences, Maths, and historys unimportant to her. She'll rember it if it's useful, but not before then. She's the one you want with you in a end-of-the-world scenario, because she can actually apply and do all the shit required. Definitely not cut out for a desk job, though._

 _Hmm, jealous Lance, and a childhood friend of Anna's with an unrequited interest in her... I like it! It shall be so! XD_

 _ **Jason** : Yes, cat's have legs in the future. As for why, current plan is godcat returned them, or they were restored naturally when Matt sealed the mana (idea being that it was a very long lasting spell/curse that can no longer stand without magic ti sustain it)._

 _Sounds oretty similar to my Foxhare. I think people just like small, intelligent, fuzzy critters with big ears. XD_

 _You're welcome to take those ideas and use them for your stories, but Gaea will remain as it is. They're cool ideas, after all. And who knows, maybe they'll show up in future stuff that I write?_

 _ **Guest** : I've recently had the urge to write an over the top, getting revenge, flirtatious Anna. Maybe as an aside or companion to Heiress?_


End file.
